


A world of their own

by Nival_Vixen



Series: Chaos-verse [1]
Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Evil, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Complete, F/M, Good and Evil, Good versus Evil, Heroes to Villains, History of Superheroes, History of Villains, Layla is a villain, M/M, Not all evil is evil, Not all good is good, Post-Apocalypse, Superheroes, Villains, Warren is a hero, World Domination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 17:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2437310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nival_Vixen/pseuds/Nival_Vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Medulla, the Mad Professor, has taken over the world. His second in command is Blossom, formerly known as Layla Williams. Three years after their tyranny began, Warren is one of the few heroes left, and he has been challenged to fight or yield. Things are not what they seem, those that live in the Lab may not be as bad as first thought, and Warren may not be the hero everyone expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Layla/Blossom

* * *

 

Despite her role in saving the school (and really, the whole of Maxville) in her first year at Sky High, Principal Powers refused to let Layla change to the Hero track. Coach Boomer refused to believe that she had powers of any kind, even though she'd offered to show him. Apparently, Will's bump up to the Hero track had only been achieved due to the amount of witnesses that had seen him power up. Since that incident, nearly all of the Sidekicks at Sky High had propositioned Principal Powers, certain that their own powers were worthy of being Heroes too. By the time Royal Pain's attempted takeover and subsequent defeat had been and gone, both Principal Powers and Coach Boomer were fed up with Sidekicks attempting to thwart the system that had placed them in their status, and they'd both agreed to not let any more Sidekicks try out for the Hero track. So when Layla queried Principal Powers two weeks after saving Sky High, she received nothing but a terse and firm negative reply. _From here on out,_ ** _no one_** _would be allowed to switch tracks_. Quelling her desire to make the school grounds into a jungle, Layla nodded and left, thinking that she understood their reasoning and could rationally accept her fate to stay as a Sidekick. She did understand, but as she found out in three months time, Layla definitely hadn't accepted her fate, and certainly not in the rational manner she thought she had.

 

Wendy Walker, a girl who could manipulate the weather, was threatening to hit Zach with a lightning bolt after he'd bumped into her in the cafeteria and she'd spilled her food over herself. Magenta, who hated bullying of any kind - even if her ex-boyfriend was target - had started to get angry. The clouds around the school darkened as Wendy's power grew, and Magenta had started to shake in anger. Her anger enveloped her, and she jumped up and attacked Wendy. As she'd done so, her entire body shifted to that of a lion, and the roar that she emitted could be heard over the crash of thunder. That very afternoon, Magenta had been switched to the Hero track. At first, Layla told herself that she didn't mind, that Magenta hadn't really meant to change in front of everyone, and she even told herself that she was happy for Magenta. But the feelings of betrayal by both her friend and the educational institution were there, and they were beginning to grow.

 

Layla found that she couldn't look at Magenta for very long without her hands clenching into fists. She couldn't look at Coach Boomer during Save the Citizen, keeping her eyes firmly on the players that Will and Warren continued to defeat. During assembly, Layla couldn't even bring herself to listen to what Principal Powers was saying, and had Ethan and Zach reiterate anything important for her.

 

Her mother had seen the cold look in her eyes when talking of Sky High, and so Jenny had tried to talk to Layla about it, just as she'd done when Will and Layla had broken up. Layla had simply mentioned that Magenta had been changed to the Hero track, and she felt as though she was losing her friend. Jenny had felt somewhat relieved that it wasn't anything more sinister, and hugged her daughter, telling Layla that she could always make new friends if Magenta wasn't good enough to stay friends with her. Layla had forced herself to smile, thanked her mother for her advice, despite thinking that her mother must have forgotten about the cliques that formed in Sky High. People had already chosen their friends in the first week of their freshman year, and that wouldn't change. Unless, of course, they had been changed to the Hero track like Will and Magenta.

 

With Will and Magenta off in the Hero track, with their own assignments and work so different from theirs, Layla, Zach and Ethan saw less of them as time passed. The former two made new friends, joined new cliques, and it wasn't long before Will and Magenta became a couple, seemingly forgetting all about their Sidekick friends, just as Will had done when Gwen Grayson paid him attention.

 

Layla had gone to _The Paper Lantern_ the night Will and Magenta became a couple, every daisy on every table withering the moment she stepped inside the restaurant. It was Warren's night off, but Mr. Medulla was at the restaurant, waiting for his lovely blonde girlfriends for their date. The restaurant was full, and the only other seat was at Mr. Medulla's table, who was alternating between looking at his watch and phone every few minutes, a frown on his face. Layla had gone over to him, asking boldly if she could sit with him. She promised to leave the moment his date arrived, as she just wanted somewhere to sit down and eat quickly. Startled at seeing one of his students, Mr. Medulla had simply nodded and then returned to checking his watch and phone. A wail of sirens passing the restaurant had a few people looking out of the window briefly, but most returned to their meals. Bored while waiting for her food to arrive, Layla began to make the daisy on the table wilt and brighten, taking it closer to the point of death each time she did so. Distracted from his phone and watch, Mr. Medulla watched as the Sidekick coerced the plant between life and death, alternating between the two with precision and control that most senior Heroes lacked. Cautious - and knowing all too well what had happened that day between Mr. Stronghold and Miss Yolanda - he asked why she was still a Sidekick with her sort of power. Layla had been emotional to begin with, but Mr. Medulla's surprisingly kind words had her spilling her entire story from rescuing the school the year before to being refused a Hero test, to Will and Magenta getting together.

 

Mr. Medulla's phone rang as she finished her tale, and from his expression, Layla could tell that it was bad news. He hung up and left the restaurant as fast as he could, not even remembering to pay for the entree he'd eaten while waiting for his girlfriends. Layla paid for both bills and left soon after, wondering what had happened to make him look so distraught. She found out the answer the next day when Ellie the dog brought the newspaper in; both of Mr. Medulla's girlfriends had been in a car accident and died on impact.

 

The death of his girlfriends had been the catalyst, and the small kernel of loathing for the muscle-bound superheroes who had ended up on cereal boxes instead of _him_ had engulfed Mr. Medulla until he'd attempted to take his own life by drinking one of his experiments. Unfortunately for everyone else, it had released dormant genes similar to Jekyll and Hyde. Except in this case, it completely eradicated Jekyll, and the Mad Professor was born.

 

For months before the Mad Professor's takeover of Maxville, whispers had abounded through Sky High of a new villain recruiting. Most took no notice of the whispers, too encompassed in their own problems and lives to risk becoming the next Royal Pain in Maxville's Super Penitentiary. However, there were a few that paid more attention to the whispers than others, the promise of the future filling their minds until it was all they could think of. In the entire student population of nearly 200 people, 5 people followed the whispers to their source: Mr. Medulla.

 

Layla had been the first person to seek Mr. Medulla out. Soon, an extracurricular class was created at Sky High to allow students to use the gym to train for Save the Citizen. Unlike most school clubs, this one was by invitation only, and under the Mad Professor's guidance, those 5 people became 25. They fought amongst themselves, making their way up the hierarchy that he had created. In the school hallways, the sight of a junior nodding in respect to a freshman or a senior doing the bidding of a sophomore perplexed most of the students, but those that knew and understood why they had done so simply smiled and moved on.

 

The Mad Professor tested each and every one of his recruits to ensure that they would not fail him when the time came, and after the tests, he allowed only 20 to remain. Silencing the other 5 was not too difficult; a quick mix of chemicals altered their memories to the point where they almost forgot his name. Within a matter of weeks, the final hierarchy was set, and only formal challenges could change the positioning of the recruits. Most seemed happy with their position, although he watched with cold eyes as some of the more ambitious, the more angry, desperate, and emotional recruits fought for the top position against his second-in-command. The Mad Professor doubted that any of them were emotional enough to best Layla Williams, but it was interesting to see them try only to fail time and time again.

 

Finally, as the next school year was coming to an end, and people were beginning to take note of the whispers, the Mad Professor declared that the time had come. He had waited far too long for this moment, to finally be the one known and recognised, to be the one that everyone looked up to, admired, respected. The time for them to take over Maxville had arrived. The Mad Professor unleashed a torrent of chemicals into the air, and within a matter of days, most of the world's population became sick. Supers and humans were affected alike, and there was nothing that they could do to stave off the epidemic. Quarantines were created uselessly, people took every drug, vitamin, and herb to try and get rid of the flu, but nothing helped or stopped the onslaught. Only a select few had been given the antidote to the chemicals that had been released, and a number of people were naturally immune. Within a matter of weeks, people who had only had started off with flu-like symptoms had died suddenly and without an apparent cause.

 

The Mad Professor claimed responsibility for the sickness, and barely had to wait a week before the Commander and Jetstream challenged him. Accepting their challenge, the Mad Professor let the two superheroes know exactly where he was, knowing it wouldn't take very long for them to come for him. He created a field around his lair, making the gravity much heavier, effectively grounding Jetstream. Blossom, as Layla was now known, had littered the path with thorny bushes and poisonous plants that Jetstream and the Commander had no choice but to walk over. Despite his strength making him almost invincible, the Commander was still human, still covered in flesh, and still susceptible to thorns and poisons entering his bloodstream. The toxins within the forcefield were also working towards weakening them, and by the time the two heroes made it to the laboratory where the Mad Professor and Blossom were, they had been reduced to nothing more than mortals in lycra. They were defeated in a matter of minutes, unable to withstand the attacks from the Mad Professor's recruits, nearly all of whom had been given the antidote. Blossom - the only one who hadn't been given an antidote - was standing with the Mad Professor in an adjoining room, watching as Jetstream and the Commander were defeated.

 

Most of the heroes had relied on the Commander and Jetstream to defeat the villains. But now that their saviours had been defeated, other heroes decided to fight. They'd all used traditional means of rushing into things with powers blazing; very few had thought their tactics and strategy through, and not one had won. Those that didn't offer to fight were left for the moment, and the Mad Professor's reign began with Blossom slowly dying beside him.

 

Months after releasing the toxins, the world's population drastically reduced, the Mad Professor and his recruits came forward to claim responsibility to the rest of the world, and to provide proof of the antidote. From the white pallor of her skin, and the life support she'd been put on, it was obvious that Blossom had no natural immune system against the toxic chemicals. But on live television that was broadcast across the globe, the Mad Professor cured her with a single drop of his antidote. Countries came forward to demand, bribe, and beg for the antidote. The Mad Professor refused them all, and when war was declared against him by both supers and humans, he threatened to release the second wave of the chemicals: this one was so pure that it would attack anyone with a natural immunity to the first wave. Realising that they couldn't risk what was left of their populations, one by one, countries slowly retreated to try and live their lives with what - and whoever - they had left.

 

With Blossom as second in command, the plants withered and the trees died in a matter of months. No plant life could withstand her power, and the earth was soon brown and barren. The Mad Professor had done something to her power, experimented on her (some said unwillingly, others said that it was her idea), and she was so powerful that she didn't even need to be on the same continent to unleash her devastating power on the hapless flora.

 

Enraged at their governments' decisions, groups of rebels joined together, some super and some not, in order to attack the Mad Professor and get the antidote for themselves. They trained in secret for months, knowing that they weren't strong enough to take him on and win at their present ability. Six months after his first release of the toxins, the rebels went to Maxville, banding together to attack. They didn't get far. With Layla cured and well again, the earth itself fought against them, vines holding some back, trees propelling others into the sky, and those who passed the other booby traps that were set around the Mad Professor's laboratory and lair were met with a forest of poisonous plants, trees, shrubs, and other foliage. Quicksand, arrows, lasers, all manner of deterrent came out of the walls, and yet, some were still lucky enough to get through it. Thinking themselves stronger and smarter than their opposition, the rebels failed to realise that their breathing was becoming laboured in the passages to the laboratory. The pure chemicals that the Mad Professor had revealed on live TV were slowly seeping their way into the passages, and a few of them began to cough, even as the laboratory came into sight. Those that were left ran the last few metres, only to discover an empty laboratory. No antidote, no papers, nothing to say that the place had even been occupied. Then a TV screen switched on, and the Mad Professor appeared, Blossom beside him. The Mad Professor congratulated them on making it this far, and then with an evil smirk, began to tell the rebels of their folly. By entering the sealed passages and destroying the plant life that blocked their way, the rebels had actually released the pure toxins into the atmosphere. _They had just killed what was left of humanity_ , he added with a final evil cackle. The rebels were too sick to answer, most already on the floor clutching their stomach or trying to tear off their own skin to stop the pain. Blossom and the Mad Professor watched as the rebels died slowly in the abandoned laboratory. The rebels' entry had been broadcast across the globe, interrupting all scheduled programming without so much as a warning. The world knew that their days were numbered.

 

Of course, with the pure toxins released into the atmosphere, the rest of the world's population would have been annihilated. When it was obvious to see that their medicinal companies weren't going to be able to create their own antidote in time, the countries' governments came forward once more. This time, they didn't bother to demand or threaten, but simply begged for the antidote. In exchange for the reign of each country, the Mad Professor released a controlled amount of the antidote into the atmosphere, a forcefield ensuring that the cure would not go beyond the country's border. Some were quick to comply, others look a few months, but eventually, they all succumbed. By the time the Mad Professor had control over every country in the world, the global population had been reduced to one billion people.

 

Now rulers of the world itself, the Mad Professor and Blossom had gathered quite a following. Some people had joined for the power, others so they could be on the side they knew would win, but there were a select few who had joined because they truly believed in the future that the Mad Professor had promised them.

 

Yet, there were some who still rebelled against the reigning super villains, and trained in secret so that one day, they could overthrow the tyrannical leaders.

 

...

 

End of the first chapter.


	2. Warren/Ignite

* * *

_Three years later_

 

Finishing work, Warren left the Paper Lantern quickly before Mrs. Woo could make him do another shift. He headed down the street, pulling his jacket around him tighter. The world was no longer safe, not even for a super like himself. He'd discovered the hard way that there were worse villains than Royal Pain and his own father.

 

It was still warm, despite the late hour, and he received a few odd looks for wearing his leather jacket. He glared at the few people who did have the audacity to look at him, and they quickly looked away. Warren shook his head at their inability to hold their ground for longer than five seconds, wondering how he'd ever been surprised that the heroes had lost.

 

Despite his exhaustion, the message left at his door made Warren unable to move and walk inside. The door had been torn off the hinges, thorny vines wrapped around it with roses blooming and still fresh despite being there for hours without water or soil.

 

 _Blossom had finally challenged him then_. She was second in command in the revolution of villains, a fact which few people seemed to fully comprehend. Warren maintained that she was underestimated due to her age, which was made more than obvious by the heroes who had deemed her nothing more than a sidekick and paid the price for their mistake.

 

His exhaustion overtook his shock, and Warren felt as though he could sleep for weeks. Sighing, Warren flicked his wrist, the flowers burning to dust beneath the burst of power. When nothing but ash remained, Warren propped his door up against the frame. No one would disturb him - everyone knew what the roses meant - and if the roses had been there for as long as he suspected, what was left of Maxville's population would already know that he'd been challenged.

 

Getting up the next morning wasn't as difficult as Warren expected. In fact, he was awake early enough to see the run rise. Deciding not to delay the inevitable, he left the house and headed to the Mad Professor's castle called the Laboratory (nicknamed the Lab, as if _that_ would make it seem less imposing), to face his death.

 

Heading down the street, Warren kept his gaze on the road, not allowing himself to look at the destruction surrounding him. It was worse than any Hollywood post-apocalyptic world could have imagined.

 

Blossom was the one to issue challenges against the heroes, the Mad Professor wanting to prove that he was the strongest, the best, and no one could stop him. So far, he'd succeeded in exactly that, and every hero he'd faced had either been killed or joined him. Warren highly doubted that he'd be the one to stop them, but he was beginning to think that he wouldn't stop them even if he could. Too much had happened, too much had been lost, and things had changed beyond comprehension in the last three years. Warren doubted that the world could ever go back to what it had been before.

 

Reaching his destination, Warren looked up at the camera that turned to scrutinise him. The pristine white door opened with an audible click and he stepped through the doorway without a moment's hesitation.

 

A bright flash to his side had Warren looking over to see Zach waiting for him. "Hey, Warren; this way," he said, leading him away from the entrance of the Lab.

 

Warren wasn't surprised to see Zach - according to reports, he hadn't been one of the original 5, but had joined in the next recruitment of 25 with Ethan, both of whom had stayed - and so, simply followed him across the courtyard.

 

"So how's things been on the outside? You must've had a natural immunity to the antidote to still be alive this close to the source, yeah?" Zach asked.

 

Warren just nodded, not wanting to talk. Either oblivious or impervious to Warren's desire, Zach continued to chat on amiably enough. He was even cracking jokes and laughing, just as he'd done all of those years ago at Sky High. For a moment, Warren just couldn't believe that Zach could ever have been on the Mad Professor's side. Then he remembered the TV broadcast of Zach and Magenta's fight... Only, it was Blaze and Shifter fighting then, and he'd incapacitated her with a few bright flashes, a rhythmic blast of light that had her lion shape seizing. Refraining from shuddering, Warren returned his attention back to Zach, and thankfully, the blonde man stopped talking when they arrived at a particular door.

 

"Good luck in there, Ignite. Hope to see you on the other side," Zach said, clasping him on the shoulder before stepping back and waiting.

 

Warren bristled at his hero name, loathing it now more than ever, and opened the door. Seeing nothing but darkness, Warren lit his arms up before stepping into the pitch black room.

 

"I know what you're planning on doing, Warren."

 

 _That voice. He still remembered it as if he'd only seen her yesterday, rather than almost four years ago_... It had been his hell once, to listen to that voice, to know that the owner of that voice was in love with someone else. He hadn't heard Layla's voice in so long, going so far as to mute every news announcement that she'd speak in, and he wished it had stayed that way. Even just hearing her voice now felt like hot knives had been plunged into his stomach. Going into this, he'd hated the idea of fighting against her, still plagued by the thought that if only he'd been at work that night all of those years ago, things might have turned out very differently.

 

His arms glowing brighter, Warren turned in a slow circle to find that he was still alone in the room, but in the corner a small red light was flashing at him from a camera, a speaker embedded into the wall above it.

 

"Well then, why don't you tell me what I'm planning on doing, so we're both up to speed?" Warren asked, proud of the way his voice didn't crack.

 

"You're one of the rebels from the Maxville division. You're planning on yielding and joining us so that you can relay information about us back to the Paper Lantern rebels. It won't work," Blossom informed him authoritatively.

 

"It must be handy having a psychic on your side," Warren commented, raising his eyebrow at the camera with a slight grin. "I wasn't planning on doing that anyway. It's just what they wanted me to do."

 

"Lying to me isn't beneficial to your survival right now."

 

Around him, the walls moved, and Warren belatedly realised that they were covered in thorny vines. His throat dry, he gave a slight nod to the camera.

 

"Fine, I probably would have tried to send them information. Is that all that you wanted: a confession? Are you going to kill me now?"

 

"No," Blossom replied, her response surprising him. "That's not what I wanted, and I'm not going to kill you. Well, I might, that's up to you," she added.

 

"Care to elaborate, hippie?" he asked, the nickname out of his mouth before he could realise or stop it.

 

He used to call her _hippie_ just to see her blush red in anger, indignation spreading across her. She'd yell at him, eventually deflating when she ran out of words, and he'd have to kiss her until she was blushing red for a very different reason. _But those days were long gone_.

 

It took her a moment to reply, and for a moment, Warren thought that maybe she'd been remembering the same thing as he had.

 

"You can yield and join us, so long as you promise not to give information to the rebels."

 

"That's it? I say that I won't do it, and you'll believe me?" he asked scornfully.

 

"Not exactly," she replied, and he could have sworn she was smirking.

 

The vines on the walls began to move again, slithering down to the ground to encircle him.

 

"Yield or fight? It's your choice, Warren," she added.

 

Despite everything that had happened in the world, the people he'd seen die, the ones he'd seen take up with the Mad Professor, despite losing nearly everyone and everything, Warren wasn't ready to die.

 

"I yield."

 

The vines that encircled him now shot forward, wrapping around him tightly. He tried to power up, but they'd blocked his access to oxygen, and then the vines were covering him completely from head to toe, and he could feel thorns digging into his skin. Unable to draw a breath to cry out in pain, or do something else, he didn't know, Warren just concentrated on keeping himself upright as the pain intensified. In the back of his mind, he could hear Mrs. Woo's voice, her broken English and fluent Chinese mixing together to berate him in two languages.

 

 _He'd been trained to withstand more pain than this! He had to keep it together, or he'd be no use to anyone_!

 

The vines left him, his body riddled with bloody holes, and Warren swayed on his feet, his stomach churning.

 

"You're one of the few to have gone through that and stay standing," Blossom said, sounding intrigued.

 

Warren made some sort of noise, all of his energy concentrated on keeping him upright. A low laugh sounded through the speaker, then a large flower burst into bloom before him. It was bright yellow, and Warren knew exactly what that thing could do to him. Despite his former hero status, he winced as a fine pollen-like mist was sprayed over him. His eyes stayed closed and he collapsed to the floor in a heap of bloody and torn clothes.

 

...

 

"I don't know about this, Blossom. We _know_ he's one of the rebels; do you really think he's going to keep his word?" Ethan muttered.

 

"He's a hero, isn't he? They all have that ridiculous sense of honour about keeping their word," Blossom replied. "Besides, my thorns haven't proved us wrong yet."

 

"True. I've still got the video recording of that guy when all of those thorns came back out. It was freaking hilarious," Zach said, laughing.

 

"You have the weirdest sense of humour," Ethan said, shaking his head at him.

 

Zach just grinned and slung his arm around Ethan's shoulders. "You still love me."

 

"Idiot," he muttered fondly. "Come on, let's leave Blossom to this. You've got training to do, and you know how Coach'll get if you're late," Ethan said, nudging him down the corridor. When Zach was out of sight, he sighed and looked to Blossom. "You do know what you're doing, don't you?"

 

"Of course I do. Just what are you insinuating?" she asked icily.

 

"Nothing at all," Ethan said hurriedly, putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "But we both know that you're not good at thinking straight when Warren's involved," he added pointedly.

 

"I think straight no matter who's involved, thank you very much," Blossom hissed.

 

Ethan decided not to mention the plethora of times that she could have brought Warren into this - long before the Mad Professor's second group had been formed - or the numerous times she could have killed him over the years for his work with the rebels at the Paper Lantern. They had scouted the Paper Lantern rebels as soon as they'd known of their existence, and it was at Blossom's insistence that they had been left alone. Rumours had abounded the training grounds when this news was discovered, but no one dared to say a thing to Blossom's face, remembering all too well what had happened to those that had done so at an earlier time. The only reason Ethan brought it up now was that this was a very different playing field. They had informants on the rebels side, but until now, they had never let a rebel infiltrate their own side. The Mad Professor would see how this was a mistake, surely.

 

"All right, Blossom, I won't bring it up again. I'd better go make sure Zach's not pummelling Coach for the sixteenth time in a row."

 

Blossom gave him a rare smile, and Ethan left before her temper swayed back to dangerous and deadly. Despite finally being alone with Warren, she didn't stay for long. In a matter of minutes, she had left his room and headed to the Mad Professor's laboratory, a thick set of vines covering the door behind her. It wasn't just designed to keep Warren locked in, but also to keep people out. There were many people who would not be pleased at the rebel's presence, even more so since Warren had killed many of their family and friends along with the Paper Lantern rebels.

 

...

 

End of the second chapter.


	3. Zach/Blaze

 

* * *

 

_Six months later_

 

Zach watched as Warren fought against Coach, but his attention was distracted by the whispers that abounded in the gallery above the training area. Warren's presence at the Lab had been talked about for months, eventuating in a small group of people attempting to kill him. It seemed that the rest of the recruits didn't appreciate the fact that Warren had beaten them one against five, or that the group had been killed by Blossom without a second thought, vines wrapping around their bodies to poison and suffocate and squeeze until there was no life left in their body.

 

The Mad Professor had condoned her actions, stating that the presence of one person should not divide them as a group. _They were better than that, and if the mere presence of a rebel could make them revert to their childish ways, then they deserved death_.

 

A fireball hit the gallery's safety wall, reverberating loudly as proof of just how hard the fire was being thrown. _No wonder the fifth tier recruits had been defeated by him_ , Zach thought with a shake of his head. 

 

He left the training gallery and headed along the path, nodding to a few third tier recruits that stopped when he passed them. Saluting was something none of them liked to do, but to go still for a moment demonstrated respect and a recognition of the higher tiered person. It was also useful to see who might be planning something against them - eye contact was necessary, and for most of the higher tiered recruits, it was easy to see who was hostile from the look in their eyes.

 

 _Just because they'd been recruited and banded together under the Mad Professor and Blossom, it didn't mean everything was roses_. Zach chuckled at his own pun.

 

On arriving at his apartment, Zach was surprised to see a yellow rose sitting on his doormat (it said ' _speak friend and enter'_ \- something Ethan had seen and wanted desperately, no matter that they were in the middle of a heist. Zach had taken the damn thing, thinking that if they were caught over a freaking doormat they'd never hear the end of it), picking the rose up carefully. He counted the seven petals and glanced at his watch. It was half past six now.

 

"We've got half an hour before we have to meet Blossom," Zach called as he entered the apartment, placing the rose on the small stand by the door.

 

Blossom could have called, but it was easier for her to create roses to signify different things. Yellow meant both of them were to go to her, white was just one person, purple and black were the same but for the Mad Professor instead. Green or blue roses meant that Blossom or the Mad Professor were coming to see them. The number of petals signified the time, and each leaf on the stalk represented 15 minutes. The very idea of red roses sent a shiver up Zach's spine. Blossom only ever used the red roses when she was killing someone; there was nothing romantic about getting a red rose nowadays: it meant you were going to die.

 

"What's wrong?" Zach asked when Ethan didn't reply to him, and he saw him sitting on the lounge, staring at the blank TV.

 

Ethan sighed and held up a bright green card. Zach understood his silence immediately; the card meant that Ethan's position in the hierarchy had been challenged. _Again_.

 

"Johnny again?" he asked, referring to a fourth tier recruit who hadn't accepted his position since receiving it the year before.

 

"Who else?" Ethan asked with a sour laugh. "This is the tenth damn time; you really think he'd've learnt his lesson the first nine times!"

 

"Don't worry, he'll have to start challenging other people after this time. You know he's only challenging you because he's constantly underestimating you. It's his own fault for constantly thinking he's miraculously thought of a way to defeat you."

 

Ethan sighed again, standing and kissing Zach. "I know... But last time he almost did win," he muttered, heading to their bedroom to get changed.

 

Zach frowned and followed him, glowing softly so Ethan wouldn't have to turn on the light.

 

"He almost killed himself in the process, so it wouldn't have been much of a victory," Zach said.

 

"He still would have won, dead or not, and I'd've been shoved back down to fourth tier. It took me years to get up to third, and a damn **kid** almost beat me after a year of training," Ethan said, pulling his shirt off harshly.

 

"We'll cancel with Blossom and I'll help you train if you're that worried," Zach offered.

 

Ethan shook his head, pulling on another shirt and buttoning it up. "It's fine; we haven't seen Blossom for weeks, and we both want to catch up with her. Maybe we can train afterwards if I still feel worried," he suggested.

 

"Deal," Zach promised, moving over to straighten up Ethan's tie. When that was done, he pressed a kiss to his lips. "You'll be fine, I promise."

 

"If I'm not, kick his ass down to the fifteenth tier for me."

 

"Please, I'll kick his ass back to _civilian_ status," Zach said, grinning broadly. "But nothing's going to happen," he added confidently.

 

Ethan didn't look as convinced, wrapping his arms around Zach to hug him tightly for a moment. "Come on, we'd better get to Blossom's or we might be red-rosed," he said with a slight grin.

 

His words had the desired affect, and Zach hurried to change his shirt.

 

...

 

Blossom seemed distracted at dinner, but Zach and Ethan both knew about the mutiny that was occurring over in South Africa. Supers over there were starting to think that the Mad Professor had become weak, that he no longer had a hold over them now that the antidote had completely cleared the air of any toxins. They were wrong, of course.

 

By the time they were halfway through the main course, Blossom seemed to be present once more, and looked up at them, smiling and blinking slowly.

 

"South Africa's under control again. They were testing my patience though, using weed killer and fire against my poor plants. Just see if they can harvest their crops this season," Blossom muttered tersely.

 

"See if who harvests their crops?"

 

Zach and Ethan went still as the door slid closed behind Warren's arrival.

 

"What's Ignite doing here?" Zach asked Blossom hesitantly.

 

Warren glowered at Zach's use of his hero name _again_ , but Zach ignored the man's fierce expression.

 

"I thought it might do everyone some good to catch up again. It looks like Warren's going to be staying here for a while, and seeing some familiar faces would help with the transition."

 

"He's already been here for six months," Ethan muttered.

 

"And in that time, he hasn't seen either of you apart from the training arena," Blossom pointed out, her eyebrow raised at him.

 

She smiled at Warren, indicating for him to take the seat to the right of her. Zach felt like he was holding his breath, waiting to see if Warren would take the seat, wondering if he knew exactly what that seat signified. His breath expelled from him in a large whoosh when Warren sat down without a hesitation. Beside him - on the left side of the table - Ethan had gone very still.

 

The door slid open once more, and Blossom looked up with a brief smile. "Yes, Hourglass?"

 

"We need to talk about South Africa," she said bluntly, not even batting an eyelid at Warren's presence nor his seat in the hierarchy.

 

Blossom sighed, nodded and followed Hourglass out of the room. The moment they were left alone, Zach looked at Warren fiercely. Warren continued to serve his meal, looking calm.

 

"That seat has been empty for _four years_. Do you know what you've done by sitting there?" he hissed.

 

"Accepted Blossom's invitation to become **her** second-in-command, I know. The rebels know what the reigning hierarchy is, just as you know of their presence. What of it, Shine?"

 

Zach's teeth gritted together at his superhero name. "It's Blaze, not Shine," he ground out.

 

"Then don't call me Ignite."

 

"You're going to have to beat everyone from the seventh tier up to get to second," Ethan said, referring to Warren's current place in the hierarchy.

 

"Looks like it," he agreed with a calm nod.

 

"Including Blossom, that's _eighteen_ people, you do realise that? There's no breaks between challenges. You could just challenge a tier at a time, instead of the full five to get to second," Zach suggested.

 

"I've heard what people are saying about me, _Blaze_. I'm not going to back down just because it might be hard. Besides, even if I do burn out, I'll still have reached a higher place than the seventh tier," Warren muttered, sounding insulted at the very idea of being placed in such a low-ranking tier.

 

"Just be thankful you're not on the fifteenth tier, like usual converts are," Ethan retorted.

 

Zach was surprised to see a frown flit across Warren's face. "You didn't know that?"

 

He shook his head briefly in return. "Rebels know about the hierarchy, of course, but they just assumed that people were placed on certain tiers and then fought to get higher."

 

"It's very rare to happen nowadays. In fact, it probably hasn't happened like that since the first recruits at Sky High," Zach mused.

 

"Who do the rebels have as an informant?" Ethan asked, thinking over the first year to try and remember just who hadn't made it through the Mad Professor's testing.

 

Warren simply took a mouthful of food and didn't reply.

 

Blossom returned a few minutes later, Hourglass still with her. The seer must have deemed Warren's presence safe, as she'd brought Speed along too. Zach noticed just how tense both men were, but Hourglass sat by Warren as if he _wasn't_ a threat to them all. He must have thought it louder than he realised, because Hourglass looked at him and smiled reassuringly.

 

"A small faction of the South African rebels tried to bring down the barrier in an attempt to get to the United States so that they could assassinate the Mad Professor," Hourglass said calmly, serving her dinner.

 

She passed the bread rolls to Speed as he opened his mouth to ask for them, and he grinned at her familiar act, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

 

"Bringing down the barrier would only release another set of toxins, wouldn't it?" Warren asked, holding no doubt that he was correct.

 

Blossom just smiled at Warren's question, but it was still enough to confirm his assumption.

 

"It was a real pain working around the Walls to get a plane or chopper out of a country at the beginning," Zach muttered.

 

"Walls?" Warren asked.

 

"That's what we call the barriers. They're all made from Blossom's handiwork, as you know, but it's as solid as a wall," Zach replied, shrugging. "Blossom had to put Walls up around entire countries just to stop some of the rioting was happening."

 

"It was necessary, or else they would have eventually combined forces to try and oppose us. By separating the countries, or states in some cases, it lessened the amount of collaboration between people. It made the takeover easier, in a sense," Blossom said with a slight shrug.

 

Ethan almost laughed at the takeover being labelled as easy. As one of the first 25 recruits, he had been selected to go along with the Mad Professor and Blossom as they secured countries, fought against entire armies, and then he'd been given the privilege to operate an even smaller select group to remove singled threats. In the beginning of the takeover, Ethan had been an assassin. It had been anything but _easy_ , although he could admit that without the Walls, it could have been much, much worse.

 

Outside in the hallway, a clock chimed loudly, signifying that it was now eight o'clock.

 

"These are for you," Speed said, handing a bulging envelope over to Warren. "You can give them out, or get them delivered if you need," he added.

 

Somewhat wary, Warren opened the envelope. He pulled out a thick wad of blank green cards, and thanked Speed for them.

 

"Who do I have to give them to for delivery?" Warren asked.

 

"I'll take them," Blossom said before anyone could answer.

 

Zach glanced at her in surprise. _The delivery job was usually given to a fifteenth tier recruit, hell, even a civilian could do delivery duty if the fifteenth tiers claimed to be too busy, but it definitely wasn't a job for the Mad Professor's second-in-command_.

 

"You'll need to write the names of the people you're challenging on the cards, but that's business for after dinner," Blossom added.

 

Giving a brief nod, Warren returned the green cards to the envelope, putting it into his jacket without protest.

 

"Dinner's lovely, Blossom, but you might want to check the oven or dessert will be ruined," Hourglass commented.

 

Paling slightly, Blossom rushed out of the dining room and into the kitchen, despite the fact that the kitchen timer still had five minutes left.

 

"Speed, you can apologise now," Hourglass murmured, smiling encouragingly.

 

Zach and Ethan knew what she was talking about, but Warren simply looked confused. There was a slight feeling of pride as Zach realised that the rebels didn't know about this aspect of the recruits. _Perhaps they might not be so rebellious if they did know_ , Zach mused.

 

"I'm sorry for attacking you back at Sky High. I hope that you'll accept my apology, and we'll be able to continue working together to achieve our common goals," Speed said, his tone serious.

 

Warren's look of surprise turned to stunned in a matter of seconds, but he gave a quick nod and shook Speed's offered hand.

 

"Accept his apology," Hourglass whispered.

 

"I accept your apology... And hope we'll be able to work together to achieve our common goals," Warren added when Hourglass nodded for him to continue.

 

"Thanks. That's been tearing me up for the past six months," Speed said, grinning slightly. "I can't fight against you until we've apologised for past misdeeds, otherwise we'd both be more prone to fighting for revenge. I've done that before, and all it really does is screw with your head."

 

"Who'd you fight for revenge?" Warren asked.

 

"Blossom, for red-rosing Lash. Yielded about five minutes later, but I still had to apologise _and_ mean it," Speed said with a chuckle. "That took a bit longer, but I got there in the end."

 

"Dessert's ready," Blossom announced as she entered the room carrying a tray. "Did I miss something?" she asked, seeing the expressions on their faces.

 

"Speed and Warren just apologised," Zach replied, shrugging.

 

There was a moment of appreciative silence as Blossom set down the tray, revealing soufflés for each of them. Vines wrapped around the bowls, serving everyone in a matter of seconds. Zach noted that the vines were smaller than her usual ones, frowning as he looked at Blossom properly. Despite the flush on her face - presumably from the hot oven - she was still quite pale, her eyes were darker than normal, and she seemed to be cold.

 

"Are you sure everything's all right in South Africa, Blossom?" Zach asked. "It took you longer than normal to get it under control," he added in concern.

 

She gave a weak smile at suddenly gaining everyone's attention. "It's fine now. There were a few more than I anticipated, and the weed killer was home-made. Just a stronger potency than usual," Blossom said, attempting to reassure them and failing spectacularly.

 

The fact that she started shivering didn't help matters. Then, before their eyes, Blossom started to convulse in her chair, her hands gripping the table tightly. Hourglass swore loudly, startling most of them but not to the point of distraction from Blossom's convulsions.

 

"Fuck. What do we do?" Warren demanded, looking at Hourglass.

 

She didn't reply, her eyes rolled up in the back of her head as she tried to purposely see the future for a solution.

 

"Mad Professor," Hourglass whispered weakly, collapsing into Speed's waiting arms. 

 

Warren grabbed Blossom off the floor before anyone could stop him and ran out of the room.

 

"He doesn't know where the Mad Professor's lab is, does he?" Zach asked Ethan.

 

They both ran after him quickly, shouting directions to the lab.

 

The Mad Professor was surprised to see them arrive, especially to see Blossom in Warren's arms, but the moment he heard what happened, he got to work. Instructing Warren to put Blossom on the bench, the Mad Professor readied a few syringes. Taking a sample of her blood, he pressed another needle into her arm to give her a muscle relaxant. Blossom's entire body went limp, her limbs hanging over the bench loosely.

 

"Tell me everything," the Mad Professor said, attaching pads to her temples and vital points on her body.

 

"She was working on South Africa, trying to get the rebels there under control again. Blossom said that they used a home-made weed killer and it was stronger than usual. That's all I know," Zach replied.

 

He looked at Blossom, worrying at his bottom lip in concern. This wasn't the first time Blossom had been attacked, or had been at the centre of an assassination attempt, but it was the first time that Zach thought she might not survive it. Glancing at Warren, he was surprised to see that his earlier helpless expression had been replaced with one of pure anger. Warren looked ready to murder whoever had done this to Blossom.

 

"Blaze, get on the phone to South Africa. Get them to hose off the Walls, or the whole country will go up in flames. Understood?" the Mad Professor asked, not looking away from his screen.

 

"Got it," Zach replied, going into the lab's adjoining room to where the phone was.

 

"You remember the number for South Africa?" Ethan asked, following him inside.

 

"I always get it confused with South America. Dial for me? I'll deal with them," he added, knowing how Ethan hated to talk to the other countries' leaders.

 

Ethan gave a nod and dialled the numbers quickly, listening to make sure it was dialling before handing the handset back to Zach. The first words that came from the South African leader were swear words, threatening the caller's manhood for calling at 3 in the morning. Zach set his jaw, pissed off at being talked to that way.

 

"Look, you spineless little shit, I don't care if it's three in the morning! If you don't get up this instant, you and your entire country will die in a blaze of flames, got it?" he snarled. "Now get everyone under your command to hose off the Walls, or I'll set the fire myself and watch as you burn, you fucking shit. Do you understand me?"

 

There was a stammered apology at the other end of the line as the leader realised just who he'd pissed off, ending with a scrambled promise to get the Walls sprayed immediately.

 

"You have five minutes, then you're going to die," Zach said, slamming the phone down on the receiver harshly.

 

"He should really learn to look at caller ID before swearing like that," Ethan murmured, shaking his head.

 

It wasn't the first time Zach and the South African leader had butt heads over something like this. In fact, Ethan suspected that the whole reason Paul had been sent to take control over South Africa was so that Zach wouldn't kill him.

 

"That fucking wanker. I should burn his house down anyway," Zach muttered, glaring at the phone.

 

"You'd have to get to South Africa to do that," Ethan pointed out. "And Skip's refused to fly you anywhere again if you don't sit still."

 

"I know. I'll take one of the jet packs this time," Zach said with a shrug.

 

"Great, I'll go start writing your eulogy, shall I?"

 

"Okay. Tell everyone I was brilliant, and good looking, and that you'll never have sex again because no one could ever compare to me."

 

"Nice to see you're both so concerned about Blossom," Warren drawled, rolling his eyes.

 

"Is she all right?" Zach asked immediately, ignoring his barb.

 

"Getting better. Seems like whatever you said to the South African leader worked; the Walls are being sprayed down now," he replied, nodding to the screens behind them.

 

Zach turned around, grinning when he saw that Paul, the leader of South Africa, and a super with the ability to be a human hose, was there along with everyone else drenching the Walls. While others were holding actual hoses, Paul had his hands splayed in front of him, water spraying forth from his body.

 

"Yeah, you keep spraying that Wall, you incompetent bastard," Zach muttered.

 

"You two don't get on, I assume?" Warren asked, smirking.

 

"Not at all. Even after four apologies," Ethan added. "Kept trying to kill each other during practice. Paul kept getting blinded, Zach kept getting sick from being drenched all the time. It was never ending... Until Paul went to South Africa, at least," he added with a shrug.

 

"Right. Well, I guess absence doesn't make the heart fonder in your case."

 

"Absence makes the heart want to go stomp on the fucker's head and blind him permanently. Got a problem with that?"

 

"Did it look like I had a problem with it?" Warren asked, grinning over his shoulder as he headed back into the lab to see how Blossom was faring.

 

Zach shook his head and went into the lab with Ethan. Blossom was sitting up, her body covered in sweat, but she was talking, and seemed to be otherwise okay. She smiled at them briefly, thanking them for helping her.

 

"I'll have to change the Wall's plants over soon. The weed killer weakened it to the point where the toxins are going to get back in to South Africa again. I'll have a chat with Paul in the morning to ensure he gets things under control," she muttered.

 

"It's his last chance; if he doesn't work it out this time, then I'll be sending an extraction team, and we'll have to think of a suitable replacement."

 

"While you're thinking of a replacement, I've got just the person to be a substitute," Zach said, grinning. "Johnny Parker. He thinks he's ready for the big leagues, but he doesn't understand what it's really like outside of the Lab when you're on this side of the Wall," he added.

 

The Mad Professor nodded briefly. "I'll send him to South Africa first thing in the morning. Let's hope that it will provide some sense to the boy. Until I've got a suitable replacement for Paul, he'll have to do."

 

"Excellent idea. If you don't mind, we'll get going now," Zach said, taking Ethan's hand and pulling him out before he could say anything.

 

They were both silent as they walked the halls of the Lab, and it wasn't until they were in their apartment that Ethan turned on Zach, his expression fierce.

 

"Look, I know you're probably not happy with what I did, but I know how worried you are about the challenge, and doing this is easier to get rid of him than me killing him for hurting you again," Zach said quickly, wanting to get his two cents in before Ethan yelled at him.

 

Ethan's fierce expression faded almost immediately and he kissed Zach eagerly, pulling him towards their bedroom. "Thank you, Blaze."

 

"No problem, Molten," he replied between kisses, grinning brightly.

 

Zach was more than happy to let Ethan show his gratitude for the rest of the night. And half of the next day, if he so desired.

 

...

 

End of the third chapter.


	4. Simon/Speed

* * *

 

_Two weeks later_

 

The television was an explosion of noise, bright colours, and frightened screams, but Simon couldn't bring himself to turn it down. He hadn't managed to get any tickets to attend Warren's first challenge against the rest of the seventh tier recruits, so he was forced to watch it at home. Not that he was really complaining; he had a damn nice couch and the food was better than the crap served at the arena anyway. Seeing Warren fighting on screen made him think of their younger days, back at Sky High. Of course, due to his allegiance with Royal Pain, Simon had missed out on his senior year at Sky High. He'd spent a year in Maxville's Super Penitentiary, stuck listening to Penny's crying, whining, and bitching, depending on which Penny was actually present. One afternoon, Lash had instigated a fight with him, just so they'd get solitary instead of having to listen to Penny for another minute. Speed still had the scar on his shoulder.

 

Warren's fight ended soon enough, most of the seventh tier recruits needing hospitalisation for their injuries, but Simon had seen some of them and figured they could use the humility that came with being bested by one person. There'd probably be a few threats directed at Warren once they were released from hospital, but he had no doubt that the flame-wielding man would be able to handle it. Hourglass had told him as much, and he trusted her completely.

 

The Mad Professor and Blossom's reign was nearing on five years now, and for that time, he'd been married for three. If someone had told his younger self that he'd be married at the age of 23, he'd have laughed and herded them off the edge of the closest cliff. He knew what he was: an overweight bully who had one friend, and had more chance of becoming a hero than ever getting a date. His confidence had relied on his need to be needed, to be deemed useful, there was nothing about being useful when it came to love and lust. ( _Round 'em up, Speed... I'm joining with Gwen, Speed, and you're coming with me... Heroes or villains? Always pick villains_...)

 

Sometimes, Simon couldn't believe that she'd agreed to marry him, let alone that she'd dated him in the first place. She was older than him by 16 years, but the age difference had never really bothered him. Hourglass was gorgeous, and Simon had been terrified at first that he'd be too immature for her. (She'd worried that he was going to leave her for a pretty young thing, and he'd been tempted to laugh at the very idea of him willingly leaving her. Instead, he'd admitted his own fears, and she'd kissed him until he backed her against the closest surface and proved her just how much he loved her, wanted her, needed her. _And_ ** _not_** _because she was useful_.)

 

He'd proposed to her on their third year anniversary, the ring cheaper than he'd've liked, and the setting of Chinese takeout over a rented movie not the most romantic in the world. _But she'd said yes_. Her father had been sceptical, not knowing why a man of his age would want to marry a woman of Honey's age, but her mother had been more than welcoming. She had baked cookies to celebrate, Honey laughing in his ear that it had been a family thing since her childhood, when she'd demanded cookies for her birthday instead of cake. He'd been ridiculously honoured that her mother had been so accepting as to include him in the cookie tradition. They had a towering platter of cookies at their wedding reception, Honey pitching one at Blossom's head and blaming him, all the while laughing gloriously.

 

Simon turned the television off, the ads irritating him, and he got up to go find Hourglass. She'd volunteered to escort Johnny Parker to South Africa, and the return flight should have landed already. Heading straight to the helicopter pad, Simon saw that the helicopter was only just landing. The Mad Professor disembarked from the helicopter and Simon went still immediately, just as a lower tier should. The Mad Professor didn't even nod to him as he passed, muttering something about a sample of weed killer. Blossom and Honey came out next, talking to each other loudly over the noise of the chopper. He kept still until Blossom noticed him and gave a nod, grinning slightly as she stepped back. Racing forward, Simon gathered Honey in a hug, kissing her.

 

"You sure know how to make a girl feel wanted," she said, grinning at him. "We're going to Blossom's for dinner tomorrow night, and I'll tell you about South Africa then. Blossom, I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to let my husband ravish me now."

 

"Not at all. Please, go be ravished," Blossom said with a laugh, waving them off.

 

"See you tomorrow night, Blossom," Speed said in farewell, racing away before anyone could stop them.

 

By the time he reached the apartment, Honey was laughing in his arms (it was addicting, her laugh. He really had to tell her that sometime). Moving until she was standing, Honey wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him eagerly. Simon struggled to open the door, but managed it eventually, his hands moving to catch her before she fell onto the floor. Honey sighed, murmuring something against his lips that he didn't quite hear, and kicked the door closed behind them.

 

...

 

Honey, looking and feeling thoroughly ravished, pressed a light kiss to Simon's lips before leaving her resting husband to go in search of cookies. _If her mother knew what cookies meant to her_ ** _now_** _, she might not bake them for her anymore_ , Honey thought with a laugh. _Not quite on par with sex, but a nice bonus afterwards_...

 

A few minutes later, when Simon came out of the bedroom in a pair of boxers, she was seated at the kitchen bench, finishing her third cookie. _He was meant to go past, steal a cookie on the way, kiss her and go to the kitchen to make them coffee_. She nudged the stool next to her and Simon chose to sit down rather than continue with the future he'd planned on, his hand slipping into hers and his free hand going for a cookie. Her eyes fluttered at the change, her power feeding on the remaining energy from a future that no longer happened, her body trembling in delight. _Now_ ** _that_** _was on par with sex_.

 

Most people assumed that Hourglass' power was foresight, and thought of her as nothing but a seer who had been misplaced on the third tier. However, as many had found out when fighting her, Hourglass' power was so much more than that. She had the ability to drain a person's projected future by changing events so that the particular thread she'd seen would never come to pass. The possible future left remnants of power, of a world unseen and no longer needed, and somehow she used that energy to increase her power and foresight strength; a continual drain of power sucking away power, until she deemed it otherwise. Simon knew that his wife was damn dangerous, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

 

"Feeling better now?" he asked, grinning at her as her tight grip lessened on his hand.

 

"Perfect," she replied, kissing his hand gently.

 

They returned to their cookies in a comfortable silence, Honey leaning her head against Simon's shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her. He decided that his life simply couldn't get any better, even with the impending realisation that Warren would have to challenge both of them to reach the second tier.

 

...

 

Dinner the next night at Blossom's proved just how restless the South African country was becoming. Things seemed to have settled slightly after the Mad Professor's appearance with Blossom by his side, but Simon learned of the assassination attempt and somewhat exploded about being left in the dark about it. Hourglass had been wearing a bulletproof vest and had taken the shot meant for Blossom, explaining why the helicopter was late, but Simon hadn't cared about the timing of the transport, only that his wife had _been shot at_ yet no one had told him. Blossom and Hourglass were both quiet, knowing that they were in the wrong, and next to the former, Warren sat awkwardly and tried to keep eating his dinner. Simon couldn't eat another bite, his appetite long gone and his stomach turning at the thought of Honey almost _dying_ , and left a few moments later.

 

When Hourglass returned to their apartment later that night, Simon was three sheets to the wind, sitting on the couch and staring at a blank television screen, as if the very image of Honey's almost-death was playing on repeat before his eyes. He was glad she was alive, that the shooter was an idiot who couldn't aim for shit, he recognised that despite how drunk he was, but Simon couldn't help but feel betrayed somehow. His wife had been shot at, and not even the news had covered the attempt on her life. An argument, heated and fast, shot between them, ending with Simon going to their room and slamming the door shut.

 

In the morning, with a hangover worthy of the three bottles of vodka he'd drunk, Simon blearily made his way out of the bedroom. Barely making it to the bathroom to throw up half of the alcohol - it burned worse on the way up than it did on the way down - Simon sat on the floor, cold and his body trembling. As his power burned through him quickly, it took a lot more to get him drunk than any other super (except maybe Warren. He'd have to ask him one day), but that also meant that Simon paid for it even more dearly than others too. Groaning in pain when a soft knock sounded at the bathroom door, he blinked up with red eyes as the door opened to reveal Honey, washcloth in one hand and a large glass of juice in another. He was too exhausted to tell her to go, and she moved beside him, gently cleaning his face between offered sips of juice.

 

"The news didn't cover the shooting because I refused to let them. The South African rebels are getting too much attention and power over the citizens as it is, and by broadcasting this, it would only encourage more attention to them," Honey explained quietly.

 

Simon looked away, clenching his fist. "I don't care about the coverage, Honey. Why didn't _you tell me?_ "

 

"If you'll remember, we didn't exactly have much time for talking after I got off the helicopter," she said, grinning briefly.

 

"That's never stopped you before... And we had all morning, why did I have to find out about it at dinner with Blossom of all people?"

 

She sighed, resting back on her haunches. "If I'd told you about it before the dinner, we would have argued about it all day. Telling you last night gave you a chance to come back, mull over it, and drink yourself away without the risk of being red-rosed. I was not going to let you get harmed because of something that I'd done wrong in the first place," Honey said firmly. "And before you say anything, yes, I realise it was wrong not to tell you straight away, but to be honest, I just wanted to hold you and be held by you. Being shot at is not a fun experience, and I had to keep laughing just so I wouldn't cry. I didn't want to scare you either, or you'd've done something ridiculous like refuse to let me leave the country again."

 

Simon, who had been thinking of something along those lines, reddened slightly and decided not to voice his thoughts.

 

"Now, you can yell at me again if you like, but I would prefer it if we did that out in the dining room. The basin might get broken if we stay in here," Honey said.

 

He didn't bother asking how, just nodded and left to the dining room, thinking of everything he wanted to say. Honey would let him say it all without interruption, that Simon knew from experience, and he appreciated it, even if he was upset with her. He waited until Honey was sitting across from him to start talking.

 

"I'm still angry that you didn't tell me about it this morning. I can understand about last night, when you were emotional enough to want the same sort of connection, but we were fully clothed all morning, and you didn't say a thing! Instead, I find out at dinner with Blossom that you were shot at! You didn't trust me to contain myself long enough to get through a dinner? Even if you'd told me yesterday morning, I would've had all day to get over it, instead of being hit with the news last night. I'm not even sure that I care that I found out about it that late after it had happened, just that _you didn't tell me_. Why did you let me find out through Blossom, why didn't **you** tell me? You could've interrupted her or something, and told me yourself! I had to find out through Blossom, instead of you! You're my wife, and you didn't even think to tell me the news yourself?!"

 

"Of course I thought about telling you!" Honey said, interrupting him. "It's all I wanted to do all morning! I was trying to think of the best way of telling you that I'd been shot at, without sounding like a complete idiot and breaking down. I was _terrified_ , Simon; terrified that I'd lose you over this, and I still am. There's so many futures that end with my death, and at least six of them are a result of this damn argument! I wanted to delay that, to spend as much time with you as possible. I thought I was going to die, and I didn't want you to do something to hurt yourself!"

 

Simon was silent for a moment, a sigh escaping him. Honey looked on the verge of tears, yet he knew that she was telling the truth. She'd never once lied to him, not even to stretch the truth once or twice. Honey was truthful and blunt to a fault, which was probably one of the reasons that so many people had loathed her when she was younger.

 

"I'm glad you didn't die," he said, looking at her. "I just need some time to work the rest of it off. I'm going to the track; I'll be back later," Simon said.

 

He moved forward, pressing a light kiss to Honey's cheek before leaving their apartment. When the door closed, Simon ran down to the track, his legs moving faster than most could see. He managed five laps in less than a minute, and continued running long after he lost count of his laps. Even as his power began to lessen, his legs no longer moving as fast as before, Simon continued to run.

 

It was only when the track's lights turned on that Simon realised how late it was, and he finally stopped running, his hands on his knees as he tried to remember how to breathe.

 

"Another lap or two and I would've called the ambulance."

 

"Very funny," he breathed, not looking over at Honey.

 

"I wasn't joking. I was coming down to stop you. Come and sit," Honey offered, moving over to the bleachers.

 

Simon struggled to follow, his heart pounding against his chest. Seemed he must have really overdone it this time around. He took the bottle of water that Honey offered gratefully, drinking it all in a matter of seconds. He continued to take deep breaths, and slowly felt his heart become steady once more.

 

"Are you all right, Simon?" Honey asked when he didn't say anything.

 

Everything that he'd been thinking as he'd done laps went out of his mind, and Simon just sighed wearily. "I'm exhausted, Honey... I just wish you'd told me yourself. Next time, no matter what, promise that _you'll_ tell me yourself if something like that happens again?"

 

"I promise. I don't plan on being shot at again, Simon. But there's always a strong possibility of..."

 

Her words were cut off by Simon's lips pressing against hers. "Don't tell me in advance. You _know_ what happens when people know something too early in advance," he muttered, pulling away gently.

 

"Kings send away children only to be killed by them years later, a fate which might have been avoided had the child stayed at home," Honey murmured, shaking her head.

 

"Come on, Honey, let's go home," Simon said, taking her hand and leading her back up to the Lab's apartment block, too tired to run them up there himself.

 

They were silent as they made their way up to their apartment, but Simon didn't let go of Honey, which she took as a positive sign. When the door closed behind her, Honey went to say something, to apologise, to promise that she'd tell him next time even if he hated her for it. Simon seemed to have a different idea, his lips pressing against hers once more, backing her against the door and kissing her as if his life depended on it. When he pulled away, their lips swollen, Honey blinked at him a few times, surprised. _She hadn't expected that_. The rush of power, of the changed future and present that Simon had instigated almost made her moan, and she clung to him tightly.

 

"Come on, let's go to bed. I'm going to have a shower first," Simon added with a grimace.

 

"I'll join you, if you like?" Honey offered, a wicked gleam in her eye.

 

Simon grinned and nodded, kissing her briefly. He watched his wife head towards the bathroom, his grin slipping. He hadn't completely forgiven her, but as with her need to hold him, to love him after being shot at, Simon didn't want to waste another second arguing. He could have lost her, and the thought of Honey hurting herself - or _him_ hurting her - terrified him. He knew that he would forgive her eventually, and with that knowledge, Simon also knew that there was no point in arguing continuously between now and when that actually happened. Honey had promised to tell him if anything like that happened to her again, and for now, that would have to be enough until they reached the time when he forgave her completely.

 

Taking off his shirt, Simon followed Honey's progress into the bathroom, her clothes leaving a trail for him to follow. Already in the shower, Honey opened the door, steam pouring out of the enclosure. Simon stepped inside a moment later, grinning at her. She knew that he hadn't forgiven her entirely, but Honey was more than glad that he'd decided not to spend their time arguing until he **did** forgive her. It was a compromise that she was more than willing to accept; threads of a future that would no longer happen slipped away - _she threw herself off the Lab's pristine white wall, Simon's screams following her descent as he realised that he could never reach her in time_. It circled the drain, disappearing with the water, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

 

Simon kissed Honey once more, his hands sliding down her sides. He planned on teasing her mercilessly until she begged for him, laughing her gloriously addicting laugh just for him. It probably wasn't much, and most people wouldn't understand, but for him, it meant more than the world.

 

...

 

End of the fourth chapter.


	5. Ethan/Molten

 

* * *

 

_Two months later_

 

Ethan remembered everything. Even if he didn't take copious notes and write lengthy journal entries about his days - both before and after joining the Mad Professor - he would still remember everything. He remembered his mother's face and his father's disappointment when he told them that he was gay. He remembered being kicked out of the house - the same house he'd lived in since leaving the hospital at his birth - his father shouting that he was no son of theirs, and his mother sobbing in the background, but unable to stand up to her husband. He remembered the rage he felt, the heartache, the terror that had enveloped him as he realised that he was homeless at the age of 16 because of his sexual orientation. Ethan remembered the weight of his backpack on his shoulders as he walked away from his childhood home. He remembered every inch of that house, even two years later, when he stood before it, hand in hand with Zach, both of them watching as flames enveloped the structure until it became nothing more than ash. He still remembered his parents' screams.

 

The year of his parents' deaths was the same year that the Mad Professor and Blossom took control of the world. In the months leading up to their takeover, it wasn't difficult to see that something was happening in the super community; to know that something was brewing beneath the surface, patiently waiting for the right time. Even if the teachers' hadn't looked stressed in the halls of Sky High, an abundance of grey hairs and worry lines appearing on their faces, it would have been obvious from the way that the Commander and Jetstream acted. They seemed to take more and more time outside of Maxville's borders, conducting hushed meetings with black-clad officials who didn't have names and unfortunately, didn't know more than anyone who wasn't affiliated with the evildoers. The Commander and Jetstream even took Will out of school for weeks at a time, intent on training him should they fail. (They failed. And so did he.)

 

It had taken some cajoling, a little bribing, and a few whispered threats, but Ethan finally discovered the source of the rumours, soon finding himself standing in front of Mr. Medulla and Layla, wondering just how he'd never seen it before. When he was there, seeing the cold look in their eyes as they assessed him, Ethan had never felt so stupid. **_Of course_** _it was them; there was no one else it_ ** _could_** _have been_.

 

He'd brought Zach along with him the next time they'd had a training session ( _never call it anything other than a training session. It's an extracurricular activity, that's all_ ), and while the Mad Professor and Blossom hadn't been entirely happy, they'd soon agreed to take Zach on as well. They rose through the ranks quickly, surprising most, including themselves. Ethan's pent up emotions about his parents had increased his power to the point where he could turn into a clear pool of liquid, touch someone and drain every drop of water from their body, sliding away without a single injury most times. His elasticity while changing from his solid to liquid form had been discovered accidentally, Ethan lunging to knock someone down in the middle of his transformation. (He'd been so angry at the sight of Wendy Walker taunting Zach before the session had even started that he hadn't cared that she wasn't his opponent and had just **lunged**. He'd been promoted from the sixth to the fourth tier in the hierarchy as a result of that attack, so Ethan couldn't bring himself to care.)

 

From there, time seemed to fly. When the world was all but given to the Mad Professor and Blossom, Ethan was sitting comfortably on the fourth tier with Zach. The first wave of toxins had done their job, showing the world just how serious they were about their threats, and then the second wave had been released by the heroes who thought they were saving the world. They had control over the world in a matter of months, but that didn't mean things were smooth sailing. Groups had been selected for their skills, rather than their position in the hierarchy, and sent out in the dead of the night to deal with threats. Ethan remembered all of the names, faces, and ways he'd killed the people. There had been politicians, environmentalists, biologists, geologists, physicists, farmers; all manner of class, race, and gender. If Hourglass deemed them a threat - whether that threat was imminent or would come later in the future - Ethan and his team made sure that they'd never have that chance. They didn't kill children, _Hourglass murmuring something about a parent's deadly revenge for their child_ , but those children were kept under observation to ensure that they wouldn't be a threat later in life.

 

With the threats finally dealt with, Ethan and Zach returned to the Lab, and were awarded with promotions to the third tier by Blossom and the Mad Professor himself. Ethan was proud of their rise through the ranks, was proud of their ability and reign, and didn't regret what he'd done in order to get there. Although, sometimes the nightmares - _the memories_ \- became too much, and Ethan had to get a concoction from the Mad Professor to help him sleep through the night.

 

"Warren's issued his challenges to the fourth tier this morning," Zach said as Ethan made his way into their apartment.

 

"Already? I thought he was only released from hospital yesterday?" Ethan muttered, looking to the TV screen to see the news broadcast.

 

"He was, but it looks like he _really_ doesn't want to wait. Warren's getting stronger with all of this practice," he added, sounding worried.

 

"Well, it's a given. You remember how strong we were when we came back to the Lab in the beginning?" Ethan asked with a slight grin.

 

Zach snorted. "Of course I do. You sent the whole apartment block dry _by accident_. It was a whole three days before Tempest could gather enough clouds to fill up the tanks again."

 

"Speak of the devil, there she is. Tempest looks _pissed_ ," Ethan muttered, nodding to the TV screen, showing Tempest's reaction as she received the green envelope.

 

"Of course she is. She _still_ hasn't apologised for everything she did as Wendy Walker, and I'm pretty sure that a few of those apologies have Warren's name on them," Zach said, grinning.

 

"Want to go watch their fight in the arena, or stay in and record it?" Ethan asked, already thinking of who owed him a favour so he could score their tickets.

 

"I'd rather watch Warren and Speed. I want to see how he goes when he has no way of making Speed slip up," Zach replied, grinning.

 

"No sideline interference," he replied, sternly reminding him of what had happened the last time Zach had 'accidentally' flashed in the middle of a fight.

 

"I won't bet on them, that way I won't be inclined to do anything."

 

Ethan nodded, but after the last time, he wasn't inclined to believe Zach. There was a knock at the door, and muttering under his breath about medical bills and thorns in their bed, Ethan went to answer it. There was no one there, but an envelope was lying on the doormat without any flowers, so he figured it was from Speed. Taking the envelope inside, Ethan opened it to find two tickets for Speed and Warren's fight, courtesy of Hourglass. He threw the envelope to Zach, picking up his phone to call Hourglass. Waiting a moment, Ethan dialled Hourglass and Speed's number.

 

"I thought I'd let you call me this time," Hourglass said with a smile when she answered the phone.

 

"Thanks, I think I'm still getting over last time," Ethan said, grinning. "Thank you for the tickets. Zach's looking forward to it," he added, moving into the bedroom and away from Zach's excited noise.

 

"I'm not; I'll be in the hospital once it's over," she said, sighing.

 

"Thanks for the tip. I won't tell Zach that."

 

"No, you'd better not. Either way, I'm going to forfeit my challenge. Simon's not going to be in the best shape after this one, and with my frame of mind, I might do something I regret. Make sure I keep to that, would you, Molten?"

 

"Sure thing. I'll make sure you stay with Speed, no matter what," Ethan promised.

 

Hourglass sighed in relief, thanking him before hanging up.

 

"What'd she say? Give any tips on who's going to win?" Zach asked eagerly when he returned to the lounge room.

 

"Not a thing," Ethan said, shrugging. "You're just going to have to wait. And I'll be checking the bank account very clearly. You're not spending a cent on this challenge, understood?" he said, glaring.

 

"I already apologised for that," Zach muttered.

 

"But I still haven't forgiven you. Two months of saving, and you went and spent our holiday money in one hour!" Ethan groused.

 

"You've taken away my bank privileges, so there's no chance of me betting on anything," Zach pointed out.

 

"Please, sometimes I think you'd rob a bank just to gamble it away."

 

"Aw, don't say that. You know I couldn't do that, even if I wanted to," Zach said, pouting at him.

 

"Yes, I know. Blossom made sure of that. Luckily for you, or I would have kicked your lousy butt to the kerb years ago," Ethan said, kissing him.

 

Zach just grinned beneath his lips and didn't reply.

 

...

 

Both Warren and Speed were evenly matched. They'd grown since their days at Sky High, and not just in size. Speed was able to run so fast that the ground itself vibrated, but Warren had been training with the desperation of survivors. He could conjure a thread of flames and use it as a whip, fire wrapping around his intended victim tighter than a lasso. 

 

Speed was fast, outrunning the advancing flames easily at first. Realising that he was outrunning the fire _too easily_ , Ethan sat forward on his chair and watched intently, hoping to get some pointers for his own challenge that was sure to come next. He didn't have long to wait (Hourglass stood up in a matter of seconds, hurrying down to the arena's exit, not caring what anyone said when she passed in front of their view), and Ethan watched as a barrage of fireballs surrounded Speed quickly. One landed in front of him, another behind him, one on either side, and as Speed was trapped with no way out, it became all too obvious that Warren's aim had improved exponentially in his years since Sky High.

 

A bright flash of lightning accompanied the final blow of the whistle, proclaiming Warren as the winner. Ethan vaguely noticed that Tempest was leaving the arena as fast as possible, a wind whipping at her and pushing her along. He looked over to the exit where Hourglass was waiting for Speed anxiously. Warren made the mistake of going to leave the arena first, and Hourglass rose to her full height, preparing to launch herself at him. Remembering his promise, Ethan melted in a second, moved across the arena as fast as he could, reforming in front of Warren a millisecond before Hourglass landed on him. He was covered in Hourglass' body a moment later, and Ethan melted both of them down, waiting until Warren had left to reform again.

 

"Thank you, Molten," Hourglass murmured, tears in her eyes as she followed Simon's stretcher out to the hospital.

 

"Hey, man. What was all of that about?" Zach asked, jogging over to where Ethan was leaning against the arena's railing.

 

"Hourglass made me promise that she wouldn't hurt Warren," Ethan replied. "She fought against me when we were melted, even after I reminded her of that," he added with a wince.

 

"Come on, let's go home. I'll fix you a drink," Zach murmured, putting his arm around Ethan and helping him stand.

 

Leaning heavily on Zach, Ethan let him lead him back to their apartment. When they were inside, Ethan collapsed on the bed, Zach leaving to get him a large bottle of water. He finished it in a matter of minutes, but his whole body still felt drained, and he soon fell asleep. Zach tiptoed out of the room to leave Ethan to sleep off his exhaustion.

 

...

 

"Come on, Zach. It's about to start!" Ethan called over his shoulder.

 

"Fine, but next ad, you get the popcorn," Zach said, sitting down and putting his arm around Ethan's shoulders.

 

"No way, I got it last time. It's your turn."

 

"Rock for it?"

 

"Fine... But we're going to have to figure out another way to solve these things one day," Ethan muttered, holding out his fist.

 

"You always say that," Zach replied with a grin, holding out his fist too.

 

"Rock, paper, scissors," they said in unison, keeping one eye on the TV screen.

 

"Ha! Scissors beats paper. I win, you get the popcorn!" Ethan crowed, laughing.

 

"Best out of three?" Zach asked with a pout.

 

"Not a chance. Come on, they're about to start," he said, turning his full attention back to the TV again.

 

"Oh, hey. There's Blossom," Zach pointed out, seeing the redhead clearly on the screen. "How come we never get invited to the second tier's box? She's got the best view, and it's only her in there."

 

"Because we're third tier, not second. We're lucky we still get invited to dinners after what you did the first time around."

 

"Well, waiters shouldn't sneak up on people like that! It's not my fault the guy was hospitalised," Zach groused.

 

"You made him have a seizure and then stabbed him for good measure," Ethan said, rolling his eyes.

 

"I was _nervous_. How was I to know that Blossom had invited the Mad Professor for dinner?"

 

A loud roll of thunder came from the TV as well as outside of their apartment, quietening the men quickly. The sky, which had been bright blue and clear only minutes before, was now dark with black clouds.

 

On the screen, a large gaping hole was shown in the arena, the commentator saying that Tempest had sent a bolt of lightning at Ignite. Warren looked a little singed, but had managed to dodge the lightning bolt at the last second before it hit. His boots had thick rubber soles and he had been able to escape the electrical charge too. Warren sent a few fireballs at Wendy, and for a moment it looked as though he had her surrounded. Then the black clouds started pouring rain, dousing the flames and drenching everyone in the arena too.

 

"Oh, geez. People do not look happy down here, folks! As you'll all know, Tempest is strong, but not known for her ability to control her power as precisely as some in the Lab. Ignite's control is greater than that, but will his fire power be able to withstand her elemental one?" the commentator asked, the camera panning out to see Warren trying to light his arms up.

 

"Come on! You have to do better than this!" Zach called at the screen, as if Warren could hear him.

 

"I don't think he's listening to you," Ethan said with a laugh.

 

Zach swatted at him, his eyes never leaving the screen. He groaned in annoyance when an advertisement started and reluctantly went to microwave the popcorn.

 

"Butter on mine," Ethan called.

 

A few minutes later, Zach returned with two bowls of popcorn, one covered in butter and the other in icing sugar. Ethan nicked a piece from Zach's bowl with a grin.

 

"If you're going to steal, you have to share," Zach muttered, taking a small handful from Ethan's bowl.

 

"I took one! You took a handful!" Ethan protested, grabbing a handful from Zach's bowl before he could protest.

 

"Hey, give that back!"

 

"And we're back," the commentator said, now dressed in a raincoat.

 

Zach stopped trying to take Ethan's bowl and looked at the screen again, Ethan chuckling as he grabbed a few more pieces of popcorn under Zach's oblivious nose.

 

"We're live at the Lab's arena where Tempest is sending down a torrent of rain. Ignite isn't the only one who looks annoyed about this!" he added, the camera looking to the crowd.

 

Most people had come with umbrellas, but the wind was picking up and the umbrellas looked to be useless against the wind and heavy pelting rain.

 

"I'm glad we didn't get tickets for this one," Ethan muttered, Zach nodding in agreement.

 

"Hang on. What's Ignite trying to do now?" the commentator asked in confusion.

 

The camera hurried to go back to the arena where Warren was sending fireballs directly up, rather than at Tempest. Again, the camera followed the direction of the fire, and they could all see that there was a small black cloud hovering above the arena. As they watched, the fireballs that were sent into the cloud became larger still and the cloud _shuddered_.

 

"What the hell?" Ethan muttered, sitting on the edge of the lounge in anticipation.

 

"He can't be doing this, can he?" Zach asked, his voice awed.

 

"I have no idea," he replied.

 

They both kept their voices down, as if speaking too loudly would ruin whatever Warren was doing.

 

Somehow, the fireballs kept getting larger rather than smaller - Ethan wondered exactly what Warren was thinking of to get his power to increase each time - and soon, Warren was sending up two at a time, the cloud shuddering precariously. As the camera panned out to show the cloud in its entirety, Ethan noticed that the black mass was actually _shrinking_.

 

"Fucking hell," Zach whispered, realising the same thing a moment later.

 

"It seems that the cloud that Tempest created is shrinking due to the heat from Ignite's fireballs. Let's see how Tempest is holding up, shall we?" the commentator asked.

 

A second camera view came on directly next to the footage of the shrinking cloud, and it was obvious even through the screen that Wendy was not taking the assault well. She looked pale, and the determination that had been in her face earlier was replaced with a look of nausea. The cloud was less than half its original size now, and she was pale, swaying on her feet. Wendy clenched her hands, and the cloud began to evaporate. The moment the cloud disappeared, Warren threw another fireball, but this one was directed at Wendy. She looked tired of fighting, and her pale features hadn't changed even after the cloud's absence. Ethan thought that she was just going to let herself get hit by the oncoming fireball. She threw her hands in front of her body at the last moment, a gust of wind blowing the ball of fire away.

 

"That was close. A deliberate decoy, perhaps?" the commentator mused.

 

"Remind me to send a bunch of red roses to this idiot commentator just to freak him out," Zach muttered, muting the TV.

 

Ethan chuckled and gave a brief nod before returning his attention to the screen once more.

 

Warren had now exchanged his fireballs for a fiery whip and Tempest was barely dodging the line of fire each time it swung around. He was herding her back against the arena's wall with a mixture of his fiery whip and fireballs from his free hand, and it wasn't long before Tempest was surrounded by fire. She still looked unsteady on her feet, her pale skin looked clammy, and just as a whip flung towards her, Tempest passed out.

 

"Oh, you've got to be fucking me!" Zach said, jumping off the lounge in a mix of disbelief and anger.

 

The bowl of popcorn, which had been long forgotten, fell out of his lap at the sudden motion and spilled over the floor in a mess of sugar and popped kernels. Zach groaned in annoyance and looked to Ethan, his lips forming a pout.

 

"Don't give me that look, you know where the broom is," Ethan said with a snicker, crossing his legs under his body.

 

Turning the volume up, Ethan watched the last few minutes of the show. Warren had to push past the crowd to get away from their eager cries and desperate pleas for more. He shoved the last hand away before jogging down into the change room, away from the media and screaming fans.

 

"Looks like people are really warming up to Warren," Ethan muttered.

 

"Ha, warming up," Zach echoed, laughing.

 

"What do you think about inviting Blossom and Warren over for dinner tomorrow night?" he asked, surprising Zach enough to make him drop the broom.

 

"Yeah, okay. Why?" he asked, hurrying to pick the broom up and continue sweeping.

 

"Just figured they might appreciate the time together without trying to justify it to everyone else all the time."

 

"Blossom and Warren? You really think so? I mean, I know they were together at Sky High for a while, but that was _years_ ago."

 

"Blossom was in Warren's change room just now. She was off to the side, so the camera didn't catch all of her, but I recognised the green dress. She wore it to the museum's opening night two years ago."

 

"The green one with the red vines running along it? I remember that one, she threatened to red-rose me if I compared her to a marble statue again," Zach said, grinning.

 

"I'm fairly sure that Blossom would hold you to that threat, so don't mention it tomorrow night, okay?" Ethan muttered.

 

"Sure, I won't. Wonder what she was doing in his change room anyway."

 

Ethan shook his head briefly. He remembered all too well the way Warren and Blossom felt after fighting, even if they'd fought with each other. Ethan had looked for them after one spectacular fight (the Picasso burning away in the corner, and he could still remember the smell of the paint as the flames consumed it), only to discover Warren screwing Blossom against the back of the lounge, her hair spilling over his shoulder as she hooked her legs around his waist and screamed his name. He had no doubt that they were doing something similar now. (He was right.)

 

"All right, popcorn's cleaned up. Want to watch anything else, or are you ready for bed?" Zach asked with a slight yawn.

 

"Bed sounds good," Ethan agreed, kissing Zach lightly before leaving to get ready for bed.

 

Licking his lips with a grin, Zach headed to their bedroom.

 

...

 

As he slept, Ethan's nightmares reigned. He was plagued with faces of the dead, of heroes and villains alike, of citizens and civilians, all of them running after him for revenge. They always caught him, whether he was melted or standing, and he died screaming. Sometimes they froze his melted body (a trick that Tempest had attempted once and almost been red-rosed for); other times he was surrounded by fire (the flames licking at him like an ice cream, his body dying inch by excruciating inch); sometimes they stamped on him (a bruise for every single one of them, his liquid form spread across a road that never ended); and other times, it was a somewhat normal death (baseball bats, hammers, weapons, bullets). Every single time, he always died screaming, a name on his lips rather than a plea for mercy or death. Ethan had never seen Zach in his nightmares, but somehow, he knew that Zach was in there somewhere, in every single nightmare, and his beloved boyfriend was dying slowly as he was forced to watch Ethan's own demise. He died screaming for them to spare Zach, to heal him, to let him go, not caring for his own deserved death. Now was no different, and Ethan woke with a cry on his lips, only to see Zach sitting in the corner of the room, his body glowing softly.

 

Without a word, Zach got off the armchair, making his way over to the bed (Ethan thrashed about in his sleep, the nightmares making him physically fight, and Zach had tired of waking up with bruised arms trying to defend himself). He wrapped his arms around Ethan gently, their bare chests pressed against each other, Zach kissing Ethan slowly until he fell asleep again, no nightmares to plague him this time around. Ethan had never told him what the nightmares were about, but Zach could hazard a guess. In his sleep, Ethan moved closer to Zach, and he held him a little tighter, kissing his forehead once more before settling down to sleep as well.

 

...

 

End of the fifth chapter.


	6. Wendy/Tempest

_ _

* * *

 

_One month later_

 

Wendy fought against Coach, trying to work on her control. Her fight with Warren was over but now that he'd challenged her and won, other recruits were looking to get further on the tiers too. She had no doubt that she'd wipe the floor with them (maybe literally, if she could just get the wind tunnel to move the right way) but it never hurt to get in some extra practice. Besides, Blossom made sure that everyone attended their mandatory sessions with Coach, and Wendy wasn't about to be red-rosed for missing one damn session.

 

"Concentrate!" Coach's voice was barely a whisper, but it held all of the rage of someone forced beneath his station, and truth be told, the sound terrified Wendy.

 

Working on making the atmosphere colder, Wendy tried to form a raincloud above Coach's head. It took almost three full minutes, but it was a personal best, and she held back a grin when she saw that he was getting drenched.

 

There were so many rumours about Coach, but despite being in the first 25 recruits, not even Wendy knew what was true. The time around Coach's ... _initiation_ was a blur, and after collaborating with some of the others, Wendy had no doubt that the vague memories were the result of the Mad Professor. She remembered Boomer fighting against the Mad Professor in the gym after discovering that their extra curricular sessions actually had nothing to do with the curriculum at Sky High. They'd fought for almost an hour, the Mad Professor seeming to conjure up potion after potion to throw at Coach, his lab jacket slicing through the air to block Boomer's sonic booms. It was obvious that they were tired by the time the hour neared; Boomer's booms were becoming somewhat wheezy and the Mad Professor wasn't so quick to block his sonic booms as time went on. (A man stuck teaching P.E. at a high school, no matter if it was one for superheroes, soon lost the level of fitness required for a superhero in the real world. The same could be said for a man teaching science, but the Mad Professor had been training with them for three months by then, and had been forced to keep up with the energy and stamina of 25 teenagers.) Then, just when Boomer drew in his chest for a final assault, the memory went hazy.

 

There was a flash of green or some sort of green light filtering into the gym (Zach refused to say anything even now 5 years later, which made most people suspicious, but Wendy had to wonder if he knew any more than the rest of them), and then Boomer was lying on the floor motionless, his body covered in burn marks from the Mad Professor's potions. Despite the extent of his injuries, he stood up and left the gym without a word. After that, he rarely talked and only ever answered to 'Coach'.

 

"Time's up," Coach said, stepping back out of the raincloud.

 

Wendy gave a nod, her eyes glancing over the burn marks still fresh on his skin - looking as if they'd never aged or faded since he'd received them all of those years ago - and made the cloud disappear.

 

She'd kept it up for about ten minutes, which wasn't too bad considering it was a sloppily made cloud and the rain only came in spurts. But either way, it would do in a pinch.

 

With her session finally over, Wendy left the arena quickly, intent on a long and hot shower. She didn't even bother to nod to the fifth tier recruits who stopped for her as she left. Heading straight for her apartment, Wendy shut the door behind her, the sound as loud as a strike of lightning.

 

"How was your session?" a voice queried from the kitchen.

 

"Wasn't bad. Made a new PB," she said with a shrug, heading to where her roommate was cooking dinner.

 

"Nice. Any plans for tonight?"

 

"Nothing so far. You?"

 

"Food, the cheesiest horror movie I can find, and more food."

 

"Sounds like a plan. Can I join you?"

 

"Only if help me heckle the characters."

 

"That's a given. I'm just going to have a shower first. How long'll dinner be?"

 

"It'll be done by the time you're out," Gwen Grayson said, smiling.

 

Giving her friend a nod, Wendy headed to the bathroom.

 

Royal Pain had been sentenced to serve a quintuple life sentence at Maxville's Super Penitentiary after trying to take over Sky High and kidnap the staff and students there. Mr. Medulla had promised that he had destroyed the Pacifier after he'd returned everyone to their normal ages, but he'd found that he actually couldn't. He would have if he could have, since he was still just a Mad Science teacher then, but due to the intricacies of the machine, the Pacifier was something that only Royal Pain could destroy. After he became the Mad Professor and the world was his for the taking, he and the 25 recruits broke into the Penitentiary to get more allies. Some people joined straight away, pledging their allegiance on bended knee and a potion shoved down their throat to ensure they complied; some refused to join with them (Baron Battle was one); others were refused no matter how hard they begged (Penny, Penny, Penny, Penny, and Penny); and a select few were offered an ultimatum: pledge allegiance to the Mad Professor, be turned into babies and grow up to live in a world where the bad guys reigned, or die.

 

Of course, for those serving life sentences that spanned more than one life, they had to be turned into babies multiple times before their gaol cell would let them leave. Gwen had to go through the same pain that she'd forced upon the students and staff of Sky High four times over. The Mad Professor had reconfigured the Pacifier (about the only thing he could do thanks to that large brain of his) so that the prisoners going through the transformation were still able to speak. Rumour had it, Gwen begged to die after the third time, but if she did so, she'd never told Wendy. In an act of kindness, mercy, torture, or whatever other emotion spurred the Mad Professor to make decisions, he allowed the accepting prisoners to start their new lives at the age of 10. Forcing them through a second (or in Gwen's case, third) bout of puberty, one where their individual powers would be nurtured, free to use at any time, and harnessed properly (none of this Hero and Loser track), the Mad Professor had an even stronger army of recruits.

 

Most people with superpowers were forced to keep them hidden or play them down in order to fit in with citizens, but in this world, where supers reigned, no one had to pretend to be someone else. They could let loose and destroy an entire forest if they wished (someone had done this and Blossom had immediately red-rosed them, the plants springing to life from the ashes of the forest and crushing the girl to death).

 

Gwen, now aged 15, rarely showed signs of her megalomaniac past self. There were times when her emotions got the better of her and she threatened to rebuild the Pacifier. Then her face would go strangely calm and she'd sigh, mutter under her breath, and return to whatever she'd been doing before her meltdown. It was odd, but the happenstances weren't as frequent as they'd been when she first moved in with Wendy at age 11. All of the baby-fied recruits had been given to carers - most were selected, a few volunteered. Wendy volunteered; one look at that stubborn jaw set, the young girl's eyes burning with the same intensity as Gwen's had before she became Royal Pain, and she knew that she couldn't let her best friend be raised by anyone else. It was hard at times, and they argued with TVs breaking and lightning hitting the building, but they worked past their emotions and learnt to compromise with each other. The carers were given strict instructions on how to raise the children, how not to mollycoddle them, and to ensure that they were free to use their power in any way they wanted, so long as they were in a controlled environment. The last instruction was the main reason that Wendy's apartment had three rooms, two bedrooms and one room purely for Gwen to use her powers.

 

As the third room was full of pieces of metal, fibre optics, computer parts, machinery cogs and other bits and pieces that Gwen considered necessary to her fully utilise her powers ( _junk, Gwen, it's called_ ** _junk_** ), Wendy stayed out of that room for the most part. Of course, the camera installed in the room was an added deterrent. It was insulated or protected in some way, Wendy still wasn't quite sure, but Gwen wasn't able to affect it, much to her initial frustration. The camera checked up on Gwen to ensure she used her powers regularly, and if the Mad Professor or Blossom deemed a piece of junk unnecessary, the item was removed from the room immediately. (They'd almost lost the garbage disposal that way.)

 

Her shower finished, Wendy dried herself off and changed into her most comfortable pyjamas, heading back out to the lounge room. Gwen was already sitting on the couch, a bowl of lamb masala in her lap and a second next to her for Wendy.

 

"Hit me with it," she said, taking her dinner and sitting down, snuggling down into the couch comfortably.

 

"All right, we've got _Nightmare on 34th Street_ , Christmas parody with Santa Claws," Gwen offered, a spread of DVDs before her. " _Chainsaw Texas Musical_ ; _Silent Notting Hill_ ; or my personal favourite, _28 Pays Later_."

 

"Please, that one's _boring_. It's just one person banking their pay cheque every week," Wendy said, rolling her eyes.

 

"Yeah, in the middle of a zombie-infested bank! If you don't get paid, you die! Come on, it's hilarious, and the one-liners are priceless!"

 

"Stop quoting the reviews off the cover. I'll force you to watch _Silent Notting Hill_ ," Wendy threatened.

 

Gwen visibly shuddered. "Whoever thought it was a good idea to mix hardcore horror with a sappy rom-com should be hit with lightning... Fine, _Chainsaw Texas Musical_ or _Nightmare on 34th Street_?"

 

" _Chainsaw Texas Musical_. We'll sing loudly, and I can work on a few lightning bolts when the really gruesome parts start."

 

"Sounds good to me. Should I enhance the entertainment system and point the speakers at the neighbour's wall?" Gwen asked, smirking.

 

"That would be evil, Gwen. Of course we should," Wendy said, grinning at her. "They kept me awake last weekend, so it's our turn now, even if I have to apologise tomorrow," she added.

 

Gwen laughed, and there was an electrical buzzing in the air a moment later, the speakers moving towards the walls on either side of the apartment.

 

"Oh, before I forget..." Gwen said, hurrying to swallow her mouthful when Wendy gave her a reproachful look. "We got tickets for Zach's fight against Warren tomorrow. Do you want to go, or trade them for Ethan against Warren?" Gwen asked.

 

Chewing, Wendy thought about it for a moment. Ethan's fight against Warren would be very interesting, seeing how his powers had changed since his days at Sky High. But it would remind her all too forcefully of her own fight, Wendy realised, belatedly noticing that the weather outside was growing darker.

 

"Stick with Zach and Warren. It'll be good to see how his lights affect someone who can control a source of light," Wendy said, nodding decisively.

 

"Okay, I'll set up the recorder for Ethan's fight then," Gwen said, holding no illusions as to why Wendy had chosen not to swap tickets.

 

"Let me know how it works out," she replied, slipping into silence as she finished her dinner.

 

Gwen followed by her example, and they were both quiet for the moment until they finished eating.

 

"Choc chip or triple choc?" Wendy asked, heading into the kitchen to get their ice cream.

 

"Triple choc, please Aunt Wendy," Gwen called sweetly, breaking into laughter soon after.

 

"I guess you're skipping this week's diet?" she asked, handing her the pint-sized tub and a spoon.

 

"Skipped last week's too, funny that," she said, scooping up a spoonful.

 

"We'll go to the gym tomorrow and pretend we've been there all week," Wendy said.

 

"Mm-hmm," Gwen mumbled around her spoon.

 

Picking up the DVD she threw it at the TV. A buzz of electricity came from her splayed hand, the TV screen disappearing momentarily, the DVD slotting into place, and the screen reappearing a moment later. The DVD started to play harmlessly, the TV not even showing a spot on the screen to show where it had been rearranged by Gwen's power.

 

"Show off much?" Wendy muttered, her eyebrow raised.

 

"It's the first showy thing I've done in years, Aunt Wendy. Besides, I've been practising that for a long time and wanted to make sure it worked."

 

"So is that the reason why our DVD collection's almost halved?" she asked pointedly, looking to the myriad of missing DVDs on the shelves.

 

"Kind of. I'm still working on getting the first test subjects back out of the old TVs without ruining them. This one should just eject though," Gwen hurried to reassure her.

 

"It better, or you're buying me a new TV."

 

Gwen paled slightly and nodded, her eyes wide and portraying innocence that hadn't been there since her childhood in her _first_ lifetime.

 

"Don't give me those eyes, Gwen, they're not going to work. Come on, turn the volume up and we'll work on scaring the shit out of the neighbours," Wendy said, grinning.

 

...

 

Zach's technique was wearing Warren's power thin, that much was obvious. He was flashing continuously at him, a series of bright lights that could either blind someone or make others go into a fit of seizures. (The spectators were all protected by a dark screen surrounding the arena itself, and viewers at home were advised to watch the show with caution and put their sunglasses on. The light still filtered through, but at a much lower frequency, so Wendy just hoped that the resulting migraine would be worth it.)

 

Warren was constantly defending himself, a shield of fire held up to obscure the bright light. He was getting exhausted, and could only hope that Zach was tiring faster than he was. He didn't dare look for Zach's reflection in the screen behind him, not knowing if the flashes of light would affect him. Warren knew that he couldn't keep the shield up for very much longer and desperately tried to think of a way to get to Zach without seeing him. In the beginning, people had tried to fight Zach by keeping their eyes closed, but his flashes of light could still be seen behind closed eyelids and affect the brain.

 

(Mrs. Woo theorised that an opponent who was blind would be able to get further against Zach, and maybe even beat him entirely, since the light could not reach the retina in the eye and go on to affect the brain. But that didn't help him _now_ , and Warren sure as fuck wasn't going to burn his eyes out just to win a fight.) Growling under his breath, Warren gathered more strength to put into his shield. As he lifted his arm higher against a particularly bright flash (his eyes stung, as if a thousand camera flashes had been aimed directly at him), he saw the leather cuff around his wrist. If only it was bigger, he might be able to wrap it around his eyes to stop the light penetrating. He was wearing a fairly thin shirt, his leather jacket not allowed in the arena, and his body too hot in and after a fight (and too hard for Blossom to rip off him in the change room, truth be told) to rationalise the jacket anyway. His pants were probably the thickest material he was wearing.

 

Sighing as Warren realised what he'd have to do to win, he just really hoped that this wouldn't show up on the news highlights that evening, his free hand moving to unzip his jeans. (Of course it wouldn't show up that evening. It would show up on the news highlights for the rest of the _week_.)

 

Wendy was fairly sure the women in the audience took a collective gasp as Warren unzipped his jeans (probably a couple of men too). Sitting beside her, Gwen suddenly sat up a bit straighter, her cheeks flushed as she stared at the scene intently. The shield that Warren created suddenly surrounded him completely, obscuring him from both Zach and the audience's views (the women let out a disappointed sigh). The flames died down a moment later to reveal Warren standing there, his jeans tied around his face. Wendy heard one of the women in the audience laugh about his face being in his crotch and how she'd like to do something similar. The woman stopped laughing mid-laugh and went strangely silent, drawing Wendy's attention. It could have been a reflection from Zach's glows, but the woman in question seemed to have a green tint to her skin. Wendy licked her lips nervously when she saw that even from across the arena, it looked as though Blossom was watching her, and she hurried to return her attention to the fight instead.

 

"Do you think it'll work?" Gwen asked curiously, looking between Warren and Zach.

 

"It could. No one's ever faced Blaze like this before," Wendy murmured.

 

"Too bad we can't make a bet on this. I really think Ignite's going to win, but his odds aren't good with the bookies," she said.

 

"How do you know that?" Wendy asked pointedly.

 

As her carer, Wendy wasn't allowed to bet - apparently, exposing Gwen to gambling would make the compulsive behaviour take over her desire to use her power, lessening her worth as a recruit - and she was surprised at Gwen's comment, suddenly worrying that she'd somehow failed her.

 

"I just saw the bookies' signs when we came in. The gamblers looked really desperate, I don't know how they don't have more self control than that," Gwen added in distaste. "Anyway, if they really wanted, they could just ask Blossom for one of the Mad Professor's potions to stop the temptation."

 

Zach stopped flashing when he saw that Warren wasn't affected, and thanked small mercies for his hand to hand combat training with Coach. Warren might not be able to see him sneaking up on him, but he'd tied the jeans in a double knot, and Zach was fairly sure he'd feel the impromptu blindfold being taken off. Even if Zach did somehow manage to get it off, he'd have a split second to throw the thing away before Warren roasted him alive.

 

 _The spectators were too quiet_ , Warren decided. He'd heard the collective gasp on revealing his boxer-clad lower half, but even if they'd all been told to shut up by the fight's officials, they wouldn't have stayed _this_ quiet. _Zach must have done something. Or stopped doing something_ , he corrected. Warren lit his arms up and started to walk forward, hoping that Zach hadn't moved from his original position.

 

Stifling the laughter that tried to escape her throat on seeing Warren walking in the opposite direction to where Zach was standing, Wendy suddenly wished that the interference rule was more lax. It would be fun to call out to Warren, watching him stumble his way around the arena blindfolded as directions were shouted on all sides. But neither the Mad Professor nor Blossom looked like they would relax the rules for something like that, and the fight continued.

 

Warren went still, his body turning slightly to the left, then the right. On the large screen at the other end of the arena, Wendy could see a frown on his face, his fingers moving up to the blindfold. Zach powered up in anticipation. Gwen held her breath, and Wendy squeezed her hand, both of them wanting to call out for Warren to leave the blindfold on. They both sighed in relief when he simply moved the sides so that they were resting on his ears rather than covering them. Warren started throwing fireballs in all different directions. Wendy could see the pattern once he'd finished, all 12 fireballs landing much like a clock. Zach had dodged the fire, but his movement gave away his position, and Warren was now facing the right way as he began walking forward, his arms lit up again.

 

Zach wanted to swear in frustration. Warren was advancing on him, but he couldn't move to get away. The moment he moved, he knew the other man would hear his footsteps, no matter how soft the sound. He'd seen Warren practicing with Coach, and knew that his hearing was freakishly sensitive. _Hell, just lifting his foot off the ground would probably ruin him_.

 

"Fuck it," he muttered, running straight at Warren.

 

Hearing Zach's low-voiced curse, Warren turned slightly, his arms lighting up immediately. He threw fireball after fireball at the advancing footsteps, tearing the blindfold off at the last minute to aim properly. Zach was injured, scorched holes in his outfit and a small part of his hair was on fire, but on seeing Warren take off the blindfold, he tried to gather the last of his strength to light up again. He was too slow, and the oncoming fireball was too fast for him. Zach dropped to the ground and didn't get up, unconscious for the moment.

 

The bell rang loudly, signifying the end of the fight, and Warren took a step forward to see if Zach was all right. Then he saw Hourglass off to the side. She locked her gaze with his and shook her head slightly. Warren clenched his fists and turned sharply on his heel to go to his change room. He had his own injuries to be seen to, and he could look in on Zach while he was at the hospital.

 

"I think that's the closest anyone's come to actually beating Ignite," Gwen said, impressed as she watched Zach being taken out of the arena on a stretcher.

 

"It was a good fight," Wendy agreed. "There were a few openings that both missed, though. They were both tired by the end of it."

 

"I'm not surprised. Did you see the timer on the screen? Ignite kept his fiery shield up for almost twelve straight minutes. That had to be exhausting, yet he still managed to create more after all that!"

 

Wendy nodded, looking at Gwen in amusement. "I know, I _was_ there, you know."

 

"Uh-huh. And the way that Zach was able to keep flashing like that was pretty amazing too. I didn't think he'd have it in him," she mused.

 

Wendy rolled her eyes, and let Gwen prattle on until they reached the apartment. Frowning when Gwen went silent suddenly, Wendy looked past her to see a rose sitting on the doormat. It was a red rose, and a shiver of fear ran through Wendy as she moved around Gwen to pick up the rose and find who it was addressed to. She tried in vain to think of some way that she might have failed the Mad Professor or Blossom, or something she might have done to deserve the red rose, but came up blank. The small tag on the note had Gwen's name on it, and she clutched the stem tightly as she turned to her friend, the girl she'd raised for the past five years, to find her crying into her hands.

 

"Gwen, what did you do?" she whispered, her heart breaking as she counted the petals.

 

 _Five days. That's all she had left with Gwen. Five days and then she'd be gone. Forever this time_.

 

Gwen didn't reply, still sobbing quietly into her hands as she moved past Wendy to get into the apartment, the door reconstructing itself with a burst of power. Wendy hurried in after her before the door could reform, the rose still clutched in her hands. Gwen ran into her room, the door slamming shut behind her and the portraits on the walls shuddering in response. Feeling numb, Wendy noticed that the answering machine was flashing red. She could remember the day Gwen had come out of the third room holding the antique device proudly.

 

Gwen had been working on it for a week, rebuilding the machine manually by hand without using her power. Gwen said that she had wanted to see how it worked before she rebuilt it again with her power. Wendy had plugged it in and excited, Gwen had run out of the apartment to ring the phone and leave the very first message, telling Wendy not to pick up the phone yet. She'd looked so excited about her accomplishment that Wendy almost hadn't the heart to tell her that the message hadn't recorded since there was no cassette tape in the device. But she knew that Gwen would have found out anyway, and when she came in with a broad anticipatory smile, she'd told her in calm tones that it hadn't worked because of the cassette. Gwen had looked disappointed, but there was a sense of determination beneath that feeling, and she'd holed herself away for another week to create something as a cassette substitute. She'd only come out for meals - a few times accompanied with burn and scorch marks, but mumbling under her breath about the rarity of magnetic tapes - and a few times Wendy had found her curled up around a mess of screwdrivers, a series of cassette tapes stacked in piles strewn across the room. It had taken a month, small boxes of requested materials arriving at odd times of the night and day, until Gwen finally announced that she'd finished. Wendy had plugged it in and again, Gwen left the apartment to test the device. It actually worked this time, and despite her questions, Wendy had never found out what Gwen had done to replace the tape. _Gwen had simply said that she would fix it if something happened, and what was Wendy going to do now if it malfunctioned_?

 

Outside, it was raining heavily, her emotions affecting the weather despite the absence in her own body. Pressing the play button, Wendy listened to the message reluctantly. She listened to it again, and another three times before the words finally seemed to sink in.

 

"Gwen! Get out here right now!" Wendy called loudly.

 

Surprised at Wendy's tone, Gwen stopped crying with no small degree of difficulty and left her room quietly. She kept her gaze on the floor, unable to meet Wendy's gaze.

 

"You need to listen to this," Wendy said, pressing the play button for the fifth time.

 

"Hi, this is Hourglass. A red rose has been delivered to Gwen as part of her previous life's sentence. She was given a five-year probationary period before her final life sentence is taken, and will need to come before the Mad Professor and Blossom in five days' time. They will review her case, and Gwen can talk with them about what she's learnt, if anything. The Mad Professor and Blossom will then adjourn to discuss whether or not Gwen is utilising her powers properly under Wendy's guidance. If yes, then she can continue to live with Wendy without the final life sentence being served. If not, then Gwen will be Pacified for her final time and be sent to live with someone else. Sorry for scaring you with the red rose; it was _meant_ to be pink," Hourglass added. "Try to have a good night."

 

The message ended there, and Wendy looked to Gwen, unsure whether to feel relieved or anxious. _Had she done a good job raising Gwen, or would she be deemed an awful caregiver and have Gwen taken away from her forever_?

 

Gathering Gwen in a tight hug, Wendy tried to control her emotions and let the sun shine once more, even as the girl she considered as her daughter cried on her shoulder.

 

...

 

"Gwen Grayson, come inside please," Simon said, holding the door open for her. "Wendy Walker, you can stay here or come in, if you like," he added with a brief nod.

 

Wendy stood up, squeezing Gwen's hand gently. "Are you all right, Gwen?" she asked quietly as they followed Speed into the room.

 

Gwen gave a firm nod, but the way she was clutching Wendy's hand tightly said otherwise.

 

"Gwen, Wendy, please sit down," Blossom said with a quick smile.

 

They sat down on the two chairs, and Speed left the room when Blossom nodded at him.

 

"Now, before we begin, do you have any questions about why you are here?" Blossom asked, looking between Wendy and Gwen.

 

"I have a question," Wendy said, surprising Gwen. "Why is _he_ here?" she asked, looking to Warren, who was sitting beside Blossom.

 

"I was curious about the process, and the Mad Professor allowed me to attend so long as I gave my honest opinion later," Warren replied when Blossom nodded for him to answer her question.

 

"If that's your only question, we will begin the process now," the Mad Professor interjected. "Gwen Grayson, how do you address Miss Walker?"

 

"Aunt Wendy," she replied.

 

"Why not as a maternal reference?" he asked curiously.

 

"Because she's not my mother, and it would be weird for both of us. Aunt Wendy and I both agreed that Aunt was easier for both of us to accept. I wouldn't have adjusted to this life as well if I'd been forced to call her Mother or something," Gwen replied certainly.

 

"Do you believe that your powers have changed in any way since being under Miss Walker's care, and if so, how?" Blossom asked.

 

"Well, my powers are my powers. I've always been a technopath, that couldn't possibly change," Gwen said with a slight frown. "But... But my approach to my powers has changed. I remember that I used to always just move things to put them together, without ever looking at the why or how. I was always so proud that I didn't need the instructions to put technology together, that I could make anything work if I looked at it long enough. It was a very vain way to use my powers, but I don't do that now. Aunt Wendy was always asking questions when I brought something to her ready-made, and I never had the answers for her. So I started rebuilding things by hand first so I could see how and why things worked the way they did and then I took them apart to rebuild them with my powers. It was a lot of work, but it was very rewarding too, because then I could answer Aunt Wendy's questions."

 

"Can you provide us with an example of one such item?" the Mad Professor asked.

 

"The TV, answering machine, and air conditioning system."

 

"Simon, can you bring their answering machine?" the Mad Professor called, a button on the desk connecting him through to Speed outside of the room.

 

"What did you do to the air conditioner?" Blossom asked in surprise.

 

"I fixed the piping so it would stop freezing up any time Aunt Wendy got sick. She's more prone to getting sick, especially when she's teary, and the air con kept freezing up when she sneezed. It was in the middle of summer, so I got into the plant room and fixed the air con system."

 

"I had wondered why the complaints stopped so suddenly. Why didn't you tell someone that you'd done that?" Blossom asked.

 

"It didn't occur to me to say anything. There was a problem, I fixed it, that's all there is to it," Gwen replied with a shrug. "I was more preoccupied with helping Aunt Wendy get better anyway."

 

"I gave you the flu that year. The garbage disposal tried to climb out of the sink," Wendy said, trying hard not to laugh at the memory.

 

"So? _You_ made it snow in the middle of a heat wave," Gwen muttered.

 

Speed returned with the answering machine, and the Mad Professor asked Gwen a series of questions about the device that Wendy had no hope of understanding. _He seemed pleased by her answers at least_ , she noted. From there, another ten questions were asked of Gwen and Wendy before the Mad Professor, Blossom, and Warren went to a separate room to decide Gwen's fate.

 

"Hey, you all right?" Wendy asked softly, seeing the expression on Gwen's face.

 

"Bit worried. What if it's not enough? I don't want to leave, and I don't _want_ to go to another carer. You're my family, not them," she replied.

 

"What if someone else would be better for you, though? They might be better at nurturing your powers into what's needed... They might be able to cook properly, or know how to change a tyre. How do you know that I'm the best person to be raising you?" Wendy asked, the words feeling like razors in her throat.

 

"I don't care. Who's going to watch cheesy horror movies with me? Who's going to listen to everything I babble on about, even when they don't understand it? You're the one who's raised me, and you're the one who's given me what I needed. You're the one who made me realise that I was such an _idiot_ before. I still remember Royal Pain, and I don't want to become that again. You've made sure that I've been better than I was, and I don't care what they say, I'm not leaving you, Aunt Wendy," Gwen promised.

 

Wendy took in a deep breath and hugged Gwen tightly. "I don't want you to go either, Gwen. We'll think of something, I promise."

 

The Mad Professor, Blossom and Warren returned a few seconds later, silent as they sat down before them again.

 

"We've reached a final decision. This decision was unanimous and cannot be overturned," the Mad Professor added sternly. "Gwen Grayson, your final life sentence has been revoked and you are allowed to stay under the care of Wendy Walker until you reach your 18th birthday. On that date, you will be given your own apartment, and then you will be added to the recruitment tier where you can stay at your assigned level or challenge for a higher position."

 

"We are very proud of you, Gwen. You've come a long way, and I hope to be there on the day that you reach your full potential," Blossom said with a kind smile.

 

A small rosebush started to grow, two pinkish roses appearing before them.

 

"A gift and apology for the earlier confusion with the colour of the rose," Blossom added, looking somewhat embarrassed. "I was distracted when I created the rose, and I should have known better. It was too late to take it back by the time I realised what had happened."

 

"Thank you, Blossom," Wendy said, taking the roses and handing one to Gwen.

 

Blossom nodded wordlessly and they stood to leave, their ordeal finally over.

 

"Thank you for letting me stay with Aunt Wendy," Gwen said gratefully, hurrying to leave with Wendy.

 

"Well, I'd better get back to the lab. The final results on the weed killer from South Africa should be done by now, so I can finally work out what the ingredient was that harmed you, Blossom," the Mad Professor said, standing and leaving without waiting for a response.

 

Speed left after Gwen and Wendy, taking the answering machine with him.

 

"So, no one knows that the questions are bullshit and they're only judged on their time alone between your questions?" Warren asked Blossom.

 

"Well, the questions help give the illusion that whatever they say in front of us matters. It's what people say when they're alone that reveals their true nature," Blossom replied.

 

"We're alone now," Warren pointed out with a smirk.

 

"Yes, we are," she murmured, a leafy vine rising up from where the rosebush had been a moment before, the leaves covering the small camera hidden in the ceiling.

 

He leaned across the table to kiss Blossom, his hands gripping her hips as she wound her arms around his neck.

 

At the room's entrance, Simon shook his head and closed the doors quietly so as not to disturb them. He returned home to Honey, who was waiting to go with him to visit Zach and Ethan in the hospital.

 

In another building, Gwen was explaining how the answering machine recorded messages and Wendy couldn't stop smiling, even though she had no idea what Gwen was saying.

 

...

 

End of the sixth chapter.


	7. Honey/Hourglass

* * *

 

_Three months later_

 

Honey sighed as a vision left her. She stood up slowly, her head spinning as she concentrated on breathing. She saw that Simon was waiting on the lounge as she exited their second room, which had been designed as a meditation room for her.

 

"Everything all right, Honey?" Simon asked, seeing the pale pallor of her skin.

 

"I think I need some air," she murmured, her palm against her forehead.

 

Simon was up and out of his seat instantly, the front door open for her in the next second. "Do you want company?"

 

She smiled and shook her head, pressing a brief kiss to his lips as she passed him. "I'll be fine. Be back later, don't wait up."

 

"All right, be careful," Simon called.

 

"I will. Love you," Honey replied with a smile, hoping to reassure him.

 

"Love you too," he replied, closing the door as she headed down the corridor to the elevator.

 

Honey stepped into the elevator, taking a moment to decide on which button to press. Up meant the Mad Professor's lab, and down meant... _Well, it meant a whole lot more than a ten minute lecture on the importance of mass marketed ray guns_. Her decision made, Honey pressed the button for a lower level and waited patiently for the doors to close.

 

The doors opened to reveal Warren, and Honey smiled at him warmly. "Just the person I wanted to see."

 

"Why's that?" Warren asked warily.

 

"Because I can get you to the Paper Lantern rebels," Honey said simply, pressing a button on the elevator to go down again.

 

...

 

Mrs. Woo didn't even blink twice when Warren came into the restaurant's foyer with Honey. In fact, if anything, Mrs. Woo looked annoyed. Warren's thought was confirmed when his former boss came over, berating him loudly for not coming back sooner.

 

"I'm still not even sure how I got out here, Mrs. Woo. How on earth was I meant to get here before now?" Warren asked.

 

"That's not the point! Now hurry, they're all waiting," she said, turning on her heel and leading him through the restaurant to the kitchen at the back.

 

Warren muttered under his breath, but Honey just smiled and followed after Mrs. Woo without a word. She knew that Warren had questions - she could almost _feel_ them burning inside his head - but the time for questions and answers would come later.

 

The locker room was crowded with the three of them, but no one said a word as one of the locker's padlocks was spun by Mrs. Woo's expert hand. The locker opened, the back wall sliding away to reveal a set of steps down into the Paper Lantern rebel's base.

 

The hallway at the bottom of the stairs had two doors, one on each side, and Mrs. Woo stood in front of the left door protectively as she indicated for them to go into the right. Honey hid her smile at the woman's gesture; she'd already seen the large training arena that the rebels had in her visions. The room that they went into had a selection of chairs set up, and from what Honey could see, a small representation of the full faction of the Paper Lantern rebels. Mrs. Woo came in after them, closed the door, grabbed Warren's elbow and hauled him up to the front.

 

For the next half an hour, Honey stayed standing at the back of the room as Warren stood at the front beside Mrs. Woo, the rebels firing questions at him left, right and centre. He'd been at the Lab for a full year now, and it seemed that some of the rebels were reluctant to believe anything he said. They all knew about his relationship with Blossom, after all. Honey was surprised at how well Warren kept his cool at their accusations, and calmly answered the questions the best he could. But despite his calm attitude, Honey could tell that he was still reluctant to tell them everything. While she could see the future, Honey was no mind reader, and she had no idea if it was a sense of loyalty or pride, or even if his relationship with Blossom that was making Warren hold back.

 

Finally, the questions seemed to be over, and Warren told them what he'd learnt, the tale in his own words firmer than the hesitant answers he'd given. For those who didn't know Warren - or know his future explicitly - the information he told them would have been thought of as a betrayal of Blossom and the Mad Professor. But Honey, who knew his future, knew that this was exactly what needed to happen. It was the main reason Blossom had told her to take Warren to the Paper Lantern rebels in the first place.

 

Warren finished explaining everything that had happened at the Lab since his arrival a year ago, the room staying silent when he stopped talking. As no one had any more questions, Honey indicated to Mrs. Woo that they had to leave. Mrs. Woo nodded and ushered Warren to the back, taking them both back up into the restaurant.

 

"Everything all right, Warren?" Honey asked as they headed back to the Lab.

 

He was silent for a moment, then looked at her in the driver's seat, frowning. "You're the informant for the rebels, aren't you?"

 

She nodded. "It was Blossom's idea, actually. I could give the rebels enough information to make them believe what I said, and then when it was needed, I could feed them the wrong information to capture a rebel or two."

 

"Why would you need to capture rebels?"

 

"The Mad Professor sometimes needed volunteers, and none of the recruits were willing. I only did it when I was sure that they wouldn't die," Honey added.

 

"He experimented on people?"

 

"Only for the first year. Blossom stopped him," she replied. "There are some things that not even she agrees with, and experimentation on human, animal, or plant life forms is one."

 

"How'd she stop him? She's second tier," Warren said.

 

"You'll have to ask Blossom that, not me," Honey replied with a shrug. "We're almost there. Get in the back and hide."

 

Warren did as she said without question and silence reigned as Honey drove up to the Lab's gate. She parked in the undercover parking lot and gathered her things.

 

"After I've closed the door, wait exactly five minutes and twenty-three seconds, then get out and go straight to your apartment," Honey said clearly.

 

She opened the car door, waited ten full seconds as she procrastinated with her handbag, then closed the door abruptly. Honey headed over to the elevators, smiling as two six tiers came out, stopping for her once they had exited. She gave a brief nod and went into the elevator, going up to her apartment.

 

"Hi Honey. Good day out?" Simon asked from the kitchen as she came inside.

 

"Very productive. What did you do today?" Honey asked, walking into the kitchen and noting that he was still in the same outfit.

 

"Went out running for a while, then I came home and I've been cooking a stew for dinner."

 

"Sounds lovely," she said, kissing him briefly.

 

He grinned against her lips, kissing her back heatedly. Honey wrapped her arms around Simon's neck, his hands against the small of her back. A bubbling noise sounded behind them and Honey pulled away so Simon could concentrate on dinner again.

 

"Hold that thought for me?" he asked, grinning.

 

"All right," Honey said a little reluctantly, licking her lips. "I'll be in my meditation room. Call me for dinner?"

 

"Okay. Take some water in with you, you don't want to get dehydrated like last time."

 

She nodded, taking a bottle of water from the fridge before heading into her room. Honey closed the door behind her and settled herself down on the large pillow on the floor. She shut her eyes and breathed deeply, slipping into her familiar rhythm easily.

 

...

 

In three days time, Warren would challenge Blossom for the second tier. She would accept, obviously, but the fight would be postponed while South Africa was still so unstable. They would have to go to the country again so the Mad Professor could get more samples and test his antidote against the weed killer that had harmed Blossom. The first two wouldn't work, but the third would. Unfortunately, a trip that was only meant to be for three weeks would last much longer than that, and it would be three months before they returned to the Lab.

 

In that time, Warren would have practiced against all of the tier's recruits, bettering his power and strengthening his ability to heal. He wasn't a complete healer like other recruits, but a fist to the face didn't bother him as it might others, cuts healed in a day, and he was very hard to bruise (Blossom knew that intimately, and before they left for South Africa, she would make sure that her fingerprints bruised his shoulders; the bruises stayed there for two whole days). Due to the delay in the second tier fight, citizens were allowed to witness the training sessions, and they were broadcast across the globe as well. The training rules were different to the actual tier challenges, the main rule being that there was no time limit. Whoever lasted the longest was declared the winner. Of course, that didn't stop people from trying to beat their personal best times.

 

Craig, a fifth tier recruit who could create himself into a carbon copy of anyone he liked, would demonstrate just how far he'd come since Sky High. Warren would be surprised at first, realising that Craig had worked on his ability until he could recreate the person's power too. Then he would be caught up in the fact that he was essentially fighting himself, Craig slipping into Warren's form with a smug smirk - in the crowd, there would be a collective gasp as people thought of the same thing happening in the bedroom ( _someone might even write a book about it and become a very successful yaoi author_ ). The fight would go on for nearly an hour before Warren realised that just because Craig had his physical form and power, it didn't mean that he could _think_ like him too. After that realisation, the fight would be over in five minutes, Warren cornering him and sending a barrage of fireballs at Craig, who attempted to switch forms to get away from what he thought would be a harmful amount of fire. (If he'd stayed in Warren's form, he would have discovered that Warren's body - even a carbon copy - was immune to fire.)

 

The rest of the practice sessions would demonstrate just how much Warren's power had grown over the years, but Honey gently guided her vision away from them. With the training sessions broadcast across the globe, she knew that she would be watching them with Blossom in South Africa anyway.

 

Warren would want to come to South Africa with them, but the Mad Professor would deny his request, wanting to keep the former-rebel in the Lab while he still could. There would be a fierce argument about that between Warren and Blossom, and the holes in the apartment would need to be repaired before they left (not all of them would be from Warren's fireballs; Blossom could be just as destructive with her vines and plants).

 

Honey smiled on realising that Simon would be allowed to come with her to South Africa (in fact, he refused to get out of the plane and would be brought along grudgingly, but that's not the point). It would be his first time overseas and she would show him the markets, and he'd make her take a ridiculous photo of him that made it look as though he was lifting the Wall, but she'd still laugh and he'd smile that smile of his that always made her wonder what he was thinking. (Simon would cajole her into taking a similar photo and they'd get both pictures framed when they got back.)

 

There was a light knock at the door, and Honey opened her eyes, blinking a few times rapidly to adjust her eyes to the room around her once more. She took a long drink of water before answering, her throat too dry to talk.

 

"Yes?"

 

"Dinner's ready, Honey. Do you want me to put yours in the oven to keep it warm?" Simon offered, opening the door to look at her.

 

"No, I'll eat with you," she said with a smile. "Help me up?"

 

Simon had her in his arms in a heartbeat, running out of the room and stopping by the dining table abruptly. He gently let her stand on her feet again and pulled out her chair for her. Honey turned and kissed him luxuriously, a possible future already slipping away and making her body tremble. (Normally, Simon would have helped her to her feet and they would walk to the dining table together. It was such a small moment to change, but the effect on her power made her shiver all over. Honey would be repaying the favour later that night in the bedroom.)

 

"I'm going to South Africa again this Friday," Honey mentioned as he served her stew.

 

Simon almost dropped the bowl as he turned to look at her. "Again? What about last time? They tried to kill you!"

 

"They tried to kill Blossom, actually; I just got in the way. Don't worry, they won't try again for at least two weeks," she said, taking the bowl from him before he really did drop it.

 

Simon was silent for a moment, and Honey could tell that he was trying not to forbid her from going. (The words were on the tip of his tongue, but if he said them, then they'd argue about it. One possible future shifted slightly; Simon would be sleeping on the couch until Friday when she left for South Africa, but in this future, he wouldn't come with her.)

 

"Would you like to come with me?" Honey offered before they could fight; she wasn't about to let this possible future ruin the one she'd seen earlier.

 

He nodded. "Yes, I would love to. Are you sure I can? Blossom and the Mad Professor have never let me go with you before."

 

"They will this time, I'll make sure of it," Honey said firmly.

 

Simon breathed a sigh of relief and pressed a kiss to her cheek as he passed her to sit down and eat his dinner.

 

...

 

"Honey, you know the rules. Simon can't come with us; he's just going to be a distraction for you," Blossom murmured, keeping her voice low.

 

"Yes, I do know the rules. I helped you make them, remember? Do you really think that I would have brought Simon onto the plane if I didn't think that he could come with us? He needs to come, and I need my husband with me."

 

"Why?"

 

"The same reason you can't let yourself bring Warren along," Honey pointed out with a slight smirk.

 

"You can have sex with Simon when you get back; we're not going for that long."

 

"Three weeks will become three months, Blossom. I'm not leaving Simon behind, and he's not going to get off the plane, even if you try to make him."

 

"Really?" Blossom asked curiously.

 

"Yes, really. He's stronger than you think, you know."

 

Blossom sighed and looked over to where Simon was sitting, looking straight ahead and trying not to be obvious in his eavesdropping.

 

"Fine, he can come. But make him part of the security detail; we can't have him along if he's not going to be of any use."

 

"He'll help the security guards in two weeks' time," Honey murmured, looking ahead to when Blossom's would-be assassin tried to kill her again and Simon was the only one fast enough to catch him.

 

"So long as he's useful, I don't want to know the how. Come on, let's get going before I drag Warren onto the plane," she muttered.

 

"He might be useful," Honey offered.

 

(A glance to one of the futures showed him literally smoking out the rebels in South Africa and capturing them for trying to hurt Blossom. Although, that future might come to pass in another year as well.)

 

"No, he'll be a distraction, we both know that. Besides, he needs to practice before he can fight me."

 

"And someone needs to finish repairing and painting your apartment," Honey added with a quick grin.

 

Blossom reddened slightly. "It's his fault that there's twelve holes in the walls, so he can stay to fix them."

 

"Please, seven of those weren't even his."

 

"That's not the point."

 

Honey laughed softly. "Oh, believe me, I know. Come on, you go sit down and I'll tell Skip that we're ready to go."

 

Blossom nodded and went to her seat. Honey smiled over at her husband, amused to see him still pretending that he hadn't been listening to everything they'd said. She headed down to the cockpit where Skip and his co-pilot were waiting for the go-ahead.

 

"We're ready now, Skip," she said.

 

"Thanks, Honey. The crew'll get everything sorted and we'll be up in the air in five minutes," he replied, turning to start the plane.

 

It would actually take ten minutes to finalise everything, but she simply nodded and returned to her seat beside Simon. Honey took his hand and closed her eyes, breathing deeply and trying to keep her body relaxed. She hated flying, but this time Simon was with her, and he always knew how to calm her down. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and stroked her skin with his thumb gently.

 

Fifteen minutes after they were in the air and the seatbelt sign had been turned off, Simon would reveal the bag of home-made cookies he'd snuck on board to help calm her down. They'd help, but Simon holding her through four bouts of turbulence would help her more. Skip was a seasoned pilot, and despite the turbulence, they would arrive safely in South Africa the next morning. For the first time in her memory, Honey would actually sleep on the plane without tossing and turning, Simon's arm around her as she slept in his embrace.

 

Honey sighed contentedly, glad that Simon was with her this time. He smiled at her and squeezed her hand gently.

 

"Everything will be all right, Honey. I'm right here with you; there's nothing to worry about."

 

"I know. Thank you, Simon," she said with a smile, resting her head on his shoulder.

 

Honey knew that no matter what happened, Simon would always be beside her, and together they could deal with anything.

 

...

 

End of the seventh chapter.


	8. Mr. Medulla/Mad Professor

* * *

 

From the moment he was born, Maxwell Medulla knew that he was different. He wasn't like the other babies - they still had mothers, for starters, and their fathers cried in joy on seeing them, not absolute fear like his father did. His parents had been hippies, but his mother came from a family of wealth, and within weeks of his birth, Maxwell was left at his grandparents home, his father leaving without looking back.

 

His grandparents didn't quite know what to do with him; they had no idea how to raise a baby anymore, and Maxwell wasn't like normal babies. He didn't cry when he was hungry, he didn't make a fuss when he went to sleep, and for the most part, he almost seemed like a young child, growing more aware of his surroundings every day. His grandmother was a kind woman who enjoyed cooking despite the chef she'd hired long ago, and she was the one who taught Maxwell how to cook, keeping him in the kitchen while she cooked and baked, talking to him as she went along. He was very solemn as he listened and watched her silently from his bouncer. His grandfather was a strict man who had been in the military, but he enjoyed reading - _non-fiction, of course, none of that brain-rotting fiction_ \- and took to reading out loud to Maxwell, keeping him on his lap as he read books about science, war, geography, anything he could get his hands on.

 

By the time Maxwell turned two, he could converse with his grandfather about any topic that they'd read, information pouring from him in almost exact detail. He was already walking by that time, and could often be found in the kitchen, carrying large bowls, ingredients, or various utensils to his grandmother as she talked with him about anything and everything. When his grandfather finished reading all of the books in his collection, Maxwell begged to go to the local library for more. He agreed, but with the condition that Maxwell could only bring home what he could carry on his own. His grandmother went with him to the library, offering a small bag to carry the books in, and Maxwell returned with what looked like a full shelf from the non-fiction collection. The librarian seemed amused, suggesting the children's picture books to him, but he was reading one of the books she'd already processed and didn't reply.

 

It continued this way for another year, Maxwell carrying as many books as he could back to their car each week and his mind growing with each book he read. His grandfather would let him read the books aloud, and then after each one - sometimes after each chapter - he would ask Maxwell to explain it in his own words. He was trying to get him to think on his own, rather than just repeating what was said. Their conversations lasted longer each time, his grandfather choosing the opposing side of each topic and trying to make him see that it wasn't just what he read, but what he thought that was important.

 

When he was four years old, Maxwell finished reading every book that the non-fiction shelves had to offer. He was wary of the fiction books - his grandfather's words about brain-rotting echoing in his mind - but his grandmother seemed to like them, and her brain hadn't rotted. At least, he didn't think it had. The librarian came over to him, seeing him standing there for a good five minutes, and suggested a book to read: Frankenstein. Maxwell took it home reluctantly, the only book he checked out this time, and he put it by his bed, glancing at it with derision for the first few days. Then, when he couldn't resist the temptation anymore, he started to read. Maxwell finished it in two hours and begged his grandmother to take him back to the library for more. She was so surprised by his request and the pleading look in his eyes that she couldn't refuse. He returned home with two bags full of fiction books.

 

Maxwell finished the fiction collection when he was six years old, some books he liked, while others he loathed. He returned his final bag of books to the library, and two weeks later, he started school. His grandparents had never mentioned how odd his forehead was, the large shape so different to the rest of the world. The children in his class, however, were quick to tease him. Maxwell returned home that first day with tears in his eyes, not understanding why their words hurt him. He had read every book the library had to offer, knew all sorts of things they couldn't hope to understand, but they didn't care about that. They only cared that he looked different to them. His grandmother was soft and gentle as she explained people's misconceptions about things that were different to what they already knew. His grandfather wasn't quite so kind, explaining about power and weakness, and what people responded to.

 

His teacher called his grandparents soon after he started school, recommending a program that had started to cater for children with certain abilities. _It was called the Sky program, and it would give Maxwell what he needed to get by in the world_ , she explained. His grandfather walked out before she could finish explaining about the program, not liking being told what to do by a woman, and a schoolteacher at that. He organised for Maxwell to go to a boarding school - all male staff, and a strict military regime. For the first time, Maxwell argued with his grandfather. He didn't want to go to boarding school - he'd just made friends with a girl named Rebecca Teer who didn't tease him about his head, and the school library had some books he hadn't read yet. His grandfather reluctantly agreed not to send him to the boarding school, but would review his decision when it came time for Maxwell to go to high school. The next year, Rebecca made him a yellow origami rose for Valentine's Day, her note telling him it was the colour of friendship. They weren't romantically attracted to each other, still only young, but Maxwell didn't care. He wanted a friend more than anything in the world, and that's exactly what Rebecca was to him: his very first friend.

 

His grandfather's decision was made a week after the Year 8 Science Fair, where Maxwell won first prize for his scientific evaluation of Dr. Frankenstein's monster, and even had a small set to demonstrate the electricity produced, complete with a miniature Igor that pulled the lever to bring the 'monster' to life. He was given the award for Best Mad Science Project, and even as he accepted it to his grandmother's applause, Maxwell could see the disappointed expression on his grandfather's face. Maxwell was sent to boarding school the next year, never mind that his friends, including Rebecca Teer and Tommy Boomowski - a young boy who had migrated from Russia with his parents the year before - were going to Sky High. It was the result of the Sky program that had been launched in his early school years, and was now in it's fifth year of being a government-recognised school for super beings. There had never been anything like it before, despite Captain Stronghold's power of super strength. Sky High was located in a building on the outskirts of town - though there was talk of it being moved when a local villain tried to take it over. Nothing Maxwell said or did could persuade his grandfather to let him go to Sky High, and after being sent away to boarding school, it was four long years before he returned home.

 

After his return, Maxwell went to college and completed a Major in Mad Science, rather than Hard Science as his grandfather wanted. His grandmother didn't care what he chose to study so long as he was happy. For a few years, he was happy. His grandfather had died soon after he graduated from college with honours. Maxwell felt as though a piece of him had died along with his grandfather, and when he was offered a job in a laboratory owned by the government, he threw himself into his work. Maxwell believed that he was saving lives, but society didn't agree, especially not with the return of the superheroes.

 

Captain Stronghold had retired five years ago, but he retired with the view that his son would take over, and the Commander didn't disappoint. The public loved him and his work, never mind the damage he left behind in what should have been a simple fight. His sidekick was a lithe young thing that seemed to run around after the Commander doing poses and jumping about instead of actually fighting. For the most part, Maxwell tried to ignore any mention of them in the news. It became almost impossible to avoid them in the news after Jetstream teamed up with the Commander (All-American Boy was dropped to the kerb without further mention). After one measly fight against three winged demon-like monsters that resulted in the destruction of several surrounding buildings, they became known as heroes around the world. They appeared on TV, their faces were plastered on cereal boxes, lunch boxes, and in some stores, underwear boxers too. After they defeated an octopus-like monster in France, there was no escape on TV or the newspapers. But Maxwell put them out of his mind when he entered his laboratory. It was his sanctuary from the outside world, and it stayed that way until a vat of toxic waste was sent to them.

 

While Maxwell was in a meeting with colleagues about how the vat of toxic waste would be used and handled, one of the rookie scientists thought it would be funny to drop a rat into the liquid and see it try to swim around. The rat grew to an enormous size in a matter of seconds and went on to destroy the laboratory and kill four scientists. Maxwell and his colleagues returned as fast as possible when they'd heard their screams. Trying to remember everything he could about rats, Maxwell sent his colleagues to distract the rat while he fetched his frequency emitters. There were seven different coloured mushroom-like frequency emitters which he'd been working on tirelessly, and he knew the black one had the highest frequency. He hoped it would be enough to stop the destructive rat from killing them too. By the time he returned to the lab holding the glass-covered emitter, his colleagues were already dead. The rat must have still been hungry, because it turned on him with a low growl, the fire blazing away in the corner of the laboratory reflected in its beady red eyes. He pulled the cover off the frequency emitter as the rat came closer, hurrying to shield his own ears so it wouldn't kill him too. The rat started convulsing, its body shaking and shrinking at the same time. The rat had returned to its original size in a matter of seconds, but when Maxwell tried covering the frequency emitter again, the rat started to grow once more. The Commander and Jetstream arrived, and the Commander killed the now-shrinking rat with one swift punch, Maxwell crying out. _He could have saved the animal, and it was no fault of its own that it had been changed!_ The laboratory wasn't in the best shape, but with some time and money, he believed that it could be repaired. Then men in black suits and sunglasses arrived. They spoke to the Commander and guided Maxwell away. He looked over his shoulder to see the Commander punching various pillars in his laboratory to make the whole thing collapse. Maxwell tried to go back to save his work, but the men held him back. The rat and frequency emitter were destroyed, along with his laboratory and job, so he had no choice but to accept the job they offered to him: Mad Science teacher at Sky High.

 

Tommy Boomowski joined the teaching ranks at Sky High a few years later, and it was through him that Maxwell found out that Rebecca Teer had died. She had been his best friend in elementary school, but he hadn't seen her since leaving for boarding school. They'd talked briefly through letters, but with an ocean between them and their lives going in different directions, the letters had stopped over the years. Still, she had been his friend, and Maxwell mourned her death. Tommy - now known as Boomer, rather than his super name Sonic Boom - took Maxwell out for a drink and as he kept referring to him as Medulla rather than Maxwell long after that one night, he started replying to his surname rather than his given name.

 

After a few years, Medulla was surprised to realise that his grandmother was the only one that called him Maxwell. She died ten years after he began teaching at Sky High, and her funeral had a surprisingly small gathering considering most of her friends and family had already died. Boomer went with Medulla, actually dressing in black and taking his baseball cap off. Medulla had a very bleak time for the next few months, everything looking like it was too much to handle. He even went so far as to make a Jekyll/Hyde potion after reading the novel six times in one day. A year after his grandmother's funeral, Boomer cajoled him into a date with twins (one was an evil twin) just to get him out of the office. No one was more surprised than him when both of the twins had clung onto every word he'd said, laughing at all of his jokes and anecdotes. Even better, they even _understood_ his science jokes. Boomer was annoyed at the fact his date had been more interested with Medulla than himself, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything about it. It had been too long since he'd seen Medulla smile. (In fact, the last time was probably when he'd finished recreating the frequency emitters. Boomer still thought they looked like weird coloured brain-mushrooms and hated going near the damn things, even when they were covered.)

 

For a year and a half, Medulla's life finally seemed to be going well. He had two girlfriends that loved him as much as he loved them, and he was even beginning to think that his teaching job wasn't the worst thing in the world. (At least he hadn't needed to attend summer school this year.) Then on their anniversary, he'd been waiting at the restaurant where they'd had their very first date and Layla Williams had come in, the flowers wilting as soon as she'd stepped foot inside. Medulla had been too preoccupied to notice, double-checking his phone and watch since his girlfriends were running late and had yet to call him. He was surprised when Layla asked to sit at his table, but let her with a brief nod and from there, things unfolded very quickly.

 

Much like the rat and his laboratory, Medulla felt like he lost all control of his life again. His girlfriends had been killed in a car accident on the way to their date. He stayed back after work the day after their funeral, ignoring Boomer's attempts to get him to come out of his office. He opened the bottom drawer, pulling out a concoction he'd made almost two years ago, after a different funeral he'd attended. The colour had changed slightly from the heat of being in the drawer all of this time, making it much more acidic than it was meant to be, but he wasn't in the right frame of mind to notice. Boomer's knocking had finally stopped, and his phone wasn't ringing anymore. There was no point to answering either, and Medulla was struck with the sudden realisation that everyone he had ever loved had died. The decision to drink the liquid was just as instantaneous, Medulla ripping the small cork off the vial and swallowing it in one gulp.

 

The school bell woke him up the next morning, and he found that he was lying on the floor, his head pounding and an acidic taste trailing down his throat. He groaned and stood up carefully, stumbling over to the mirror to make sure he hadn't hit his head with his fall. He blinked a few times at the mirror, frowning on seeing the thick black veins that covered his forehead. They usually weren't as bad as that, not even after that bachelor party he'd attended a few years ago that was still kind of fuzzy to remember. He contemplated trying to cover the large veins in some way, but saw that the black colour was lessening and returning to his normal blue. He sighed in relief and left his office, straightening his lab coat as he headed to the Mad Science lab. He was the last one in, but his appearance did little to stop the noise coming from his students. Without a word, he stalked over to his workbench and lifted the glass cover on the purple frequency emitter. The sound it let out made most of the students cry out in pain, and all of them stopped talking immediately, looking over to him in confusion.

 

"When I come into the room, you will acknowledge that fact by being QUIET!" he yelled, and the windows actually shook.

 

The students in the front row shrank back in fear, and he smiled cruelly. He did attendance, and after he ticked off the final name in the list - Williams, Layla - he informed the students that their essays were to be handed in to him by the end of the day. A few people protested since he'd only given them the assignment the day before, but he ignored them and told them to make use of the resources they had at hand. If they didn't hand in their assignments, then they would fail Mad Science completely. He did the same to every class he had that day, ignoring every protest of how unfair it was. Life wasn't fair, and the sooner they realised that, the better.

 

Principal Powers called him into her office after work, stating that almost twenty students had complained about him changing the due date of the essay. She told him to go home, take some time off, and get over what had happened to his girlfriends. He left her office, head pounding and fists clenching. He'd been overcome by the desire to throttle Powers for her words, but he knew that the students that had told on him were the real ones to blame. He snarled under his breath on seeing someone waiting outside of his office. The student must have heard him because she turned to face him and he realised it was Layla, the Sidekick with the Hero's power. She handed her assignment in, apologised for it being late, but she had been at his office one minute after 3:30pm. He took her assignment reluctantly and dismissed her. He had been tempted to rip it up in front of her, just to see the look of outrage on her face, but the title caught his attention: _The pollination of Caprifoliaceae_. He knew what her power was, obviously, but it was rare to find students who used the scientific names of plants nowadays. He read her essay in thirty minutes and gave her a B, stating in red pen that she could have done better. Layla received the highest score in the class, tied only with Ethan Damsale who had probably finished his assignment the same day he'd been given it.

 

Medulla went home and thought about everything that had happened in his life: being left in his grandparents' care by a father made useless through grief; being sent away to boarding school by a grandfather who was frightened by change; his laboratory and beloved job being smashed to pieces by a hero who only followed orders without thinking for himself; Royal Pain's attempted takeover of Sky High; the death of his grandparents; and being completely alone until his girlfriends came along, before they were then killed by a drunk _civilian_ speeding, no less. Where were Maxville's heroes _then_? They had been off on some holiday in Hawaii, too far away to do anything to help his girlfriends or stop the drunk driver from killing them! They were on a stupid holiday while the loves of his life were killed by a **civilian.**

 

He began recruiting for villains the very next day. He wasn't surprised when the first person to find him about it a few days later was none other than Layla. She didn't burn with anger like so many others did, a bright flame that could eventually be extinguished or die out, oh no. Her anger was growing inside of her, twisting up everything inside of her and changing her. It was the same sort of anger that he felt, too, and he knew that he had no other choice than to name her his second-in-command. She guided Ethan until he found them, his eyes widening and filling with the realisation that they were the truth behind the rumours. Others joined, Wendy Walker and Warren Peace two of the first 25 recruits.

 

Layla and Warren had an argument on the night before their final tests. Warren performed so badly that he was given one of the potions to make him forget everything that had happened. Warren and Layla broke up soon after the five failed recruits left, but Medulla had no interest in the lives of his students so long as they continued to perform as he expected them to.

 

The Jekyll/Hyde potion was never meant to be permanent. True, it had lasted longer than it normally would have, but that was due to the extra acidity from it being stored incorrectly, and he could feel it beginning to wear off. Medulla was starting to feel nauseous at the things he had done, and the things he had started within Sky High. He wasn't a villain, he was _good_. The anger he felt was giving way to the next stage of grief, and after a weekend spent throwing up, Medulla started to feel more like himself again. The veins on his head were even starting to go down. A meeting had been scheduled and his second-in-command was knocking on the door just as he was contemplating ringing Boomer for a night out. Instead, he found himself spilling the whole story to Layla. She seemed surprised and disappointed that his emotions were from a potion, and asked if he would make it again. He shook his head, stating that he would disband the recruits at their next session.

 

It didn't happen quite like that, though. Boomer, who had already been suspicious of him, had started to follow Medulla around secretly, and he found his way to the gym at the next session. He saw the students fighting each other with actual weapons ( _wasn't it meant to be training for Save the Citizen only? They didn't use weapons!_ ) and demanded answers, accusing Medulla of a lot of things and threatening to take this to Principal Powers. The students would be suspended or sent to Maxville's Super Penitentiary, depending on the severity of their crimes. Since Royal Pain's defeat, even just _training_ to be a villain was a crime now, and he had no doubt that they would all end up in prison because of him. Medulla couldn't let that happen to them, trying to tell Boomer that it wasn't their fault. Boomer obviously wasn't listening to him, and he could see him drawing in a breath to unleash his sonic boom. He moved his lab coat before he could be blasted, the thick material vibrating against the sonic wavelengths. Boomer took his response as acceptance of the fight and they continued, Medulla throwing whatever potions he could find in his coat to try and stop Boomer. Their fight lasted for an hour, and Medulla had left himself open as Boomer took in a breath for his final blast. It didn't come though. The gym was covered in a green light as all manner of plants sprung up to block the light. The distraction proved fatal for Boomer, who was knocked down by a thrown vine as Layla stepped into the circle that had formed around them. He belatedly realised that the other recruits - who had all started training without their shoes - had vines running up from the floorboards into the soles of their feet and were standing there with dazed looks on their faces, unable to move or respond.

 

"What are you doing, Layla?" he asked, frowning when she moved to kneel beside Boomer. "You can't kill him."

 

"I already did, Professor. The knock to the head was the final blow," she said.

 

"No, Boomer," he gasped, moving to his friend.

 

"He was going to kill you and have the rest of us sent to prison," Layla said, confused by his reaction.

 

"He's also my friend. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him," Medulla admitted.

 

Layla's confusion gave way to surprise, and she looked down at Boomer with a slight frown. "All right, I'll fix this. Just don't make any sudden movements."

 

A vine that was larger than any Medulla had ever seen before slid out of Layla's hand and she opened Boomer's mouth, pressing her hand down over his lips. The sound was unlike anything he'd ever heard nor wanted to hear again, and he could only watch as lines of green flowed through Boomer's body. His eyes shot open, a green glow to them for a moment, and Medulla doubted he could move even if he wanted to. Layla sat back, looking pale but pleased with herself. He stared at her in disbelief.

 

"What did you do?"

 

"I brought him back to life. Kind of," she replied, glancing down at Boomer's wooden-like body.

 

"How? That's... that's not natural, Layla. Undo it. Now!"

 

She looked at him, scoffing in disbelief. "I've just given you what you wanted, and now you want me to undo it? I don't think so... Besides, if I undo it, how are you going to explain his death to Principal Powers? Or the police, or even the Super Bureau? They're going to see all of the burn marks on him from the potions and blame you. At least this way, he can cover up most of the burns without anyone getting suspicious."

 

"But... He was dead. He is dead. This isn't right!"

 

"No, it's not. But it's not wrong either. I'm saving you - and everyone else here - from multiple lives in prison, okay? Now, I'd like you to be a little more grateful!"

 

He went to shake his head again, and then he saw another vine growing from her palm. He went still, his eyes widening. "What are you going to do with that, Layla?"

 

"Stop calling me Layla. My name is Blossom," she snarled, lunging forward and pressing her hand over his mouth.

 

Medulla struggled against her, trying to pull away, but he was exhausted after his hour-long fight, and her vine was stronger. His mouth opened when his lungs burned for air, and the vine slid in immediately. Medulla choked and gagged at the same time, flailing against her uselessly and unable to escape. Then the vine stopped and his eyes closed. The green haze in the gym faded as Blossom pulled her vines out of the other recruits quickly, their memories altered of the last few minutes. Boomer stood up and left the gym without a word. The Mad Professor opened his eyes, standing and continuing with their session as if nothing had happened.

 

Medulla was still present in his mind, but he didn't truly control his own body. He could make potions and feed himself, choose what to wear and what to buy, but he no longer felt anything. There was no happiness, joy, sadness, love, grief. He had no one to turn to, now that Boomer was Blossom's robotic pet, and in the beginning, despite everything Medulla tried to do to end his life, he always woke up the next day with little more than a headache or already-fading scar to show for it.

 

Two years passed and a year after gaining control of the world, the Mad Professor realised that he actually liked this existence. He didn't age, he didn't feel anything, and as he didn't need to sleep as much anymore, he had an abundance of time on his hands. He returned to his original love of laboratory work and science, and spent less and less time with the recruits. Blossom could deal with them, and unless she needed him around as a show of power (or to prove that he really was alive when he'd spent too long holed away and the rumours of his death started up again), he found that there was very little that he actually needed to do. He was nothing more than a figurehead, someone for people to look up to. But it was Blossom that organised the recruits for missions, she was the one that dealt with rebels, and she was even the one that had the rebels run through those tunnels and release the pure toxins into the atmosphere. Hell, it was even her idea to show that she didn't have an immunity to the original lot of toxins that they'd released. The Mad Professor could have let her die that day, but he knew that if he did then he would have to take control of the armies, and he would have to feel something again, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to handle that. So he cured her and watched as she opened her green-tinted eyes with a knowing smirk on her face. Blossom knew that he wouldn't let her die, and had probably been counting on it just to prove who was in control. They both knew that it wasn't him, but Medulla didn't mind that at all.

 

...

 

_Two and a half months after arriving in South Africa_

 

The Mad Professor was working on the third attempted concoction to protect the Walls against the home-made weed killer the rebels had made. He had almost perfected it this time, he was sure of it. The first one had made part of the Wall shrivel and sent Blossom into cardiac arrest, but the second one had only made her slightly wheezy. This third one would make her strong enough to reject whatever happened to the Walls, even a fire.

 

The rebels were moving at a fast pace, though, and the Mad Professor was concerned that they were making a larger concentration of the weed killer than he had prepared for. Honey had murmured something to Blossom one night last week, and within a day Ethan and Zach had arrived. He knew from experience that they both had various knives stashed about their bodies and were prepared to use them. They hadn't been sent out yet, so far as he was aware, but it didn't mean it couldn't happen. According to Hourglass, the Mad Professor still had two weeks to perfect the potion. A knock at the door of his laboratory had him calling out for the person to enter, and he looked up to see Blossom walking in.

 

"How's the potion going, Medulla?"

 

He didn't know if it was a good or bad thing that she was the only one that referred to him by his name.

 

"It's almost done. Another week and I'll be able to test it," he replied.

 

"That's not the potion I meant," Blossom replied pointedly.

 

She'd commissioned him to make another Jekyll/Hyde potion a year ago, but it was harder to procure the necessary ingredients in today's climate. It was rare to find anything growing outside of the Walls - or in some cases, outside of the Lab - and he was still waiting on a fresh crop of belladonna. He'd refused to use anything if Blossom had helped it grow, stating that they weren't the same ingredients he'd used all of those years ago, and the results wouldn't be the same. Belladonna was the final ingredient, and then they just had to wait for the acidity levels to rise.

 

"When the belladonna's ready, it will just need to become acidic for the longer effect," the Mad Professor replied.

 

"Good. You said heat was what made it acidic?" Blossom asked.

 

"Yes," he answered somewhat warily. "But the temperature needs to be kept steady."

 

"I'm sure any flames that Warren emits can be kept at a steady temperature for as long as is needed," Blossom replied with a smile. "Oh, before I go, you're needed at the dinner tonight. The press will be there, so try to wear something other than your lab coat. I'll send Zach and Ethan up half an hour before we're leaving."

 

"Very well. I'm not required to give a speech this time, am I?"

 

"I think after the last fiasco, they're wary of giving you a microphone again," Blossom replied with a grin.

 

"Good; it really was their own fault for putting me on the spot like that."

 

"Just try not to goad Zach into another fight with Paul, he's already tried to beat him to death with a phonebook today."

 

"Well then, I'm sorry I missed it, Blossom."

 

"I have no doubt that you were watching on the CCTV cameras, Medulla," she replied, laughing as she left the small lab.

He turned back to his potion with a rare smile, his expression soon returning to its normal state as he concentrated on the potion once more.

 

...

 

The dinner went by well, all microphones were kept a safe distance from the Mad Professor, and Blossom had even managed to get both Paul and Johnny moved to a different table than Zach and Ethan. It seemed that Johnny still had some sort of grudge against Ethan, despite his time in South Africa. The Mad Professor was surprised to see that while Zach frightened Johnny, it was Ethan that scared Paul. Of course, his water-based power might have had something to do with that. He might have to follow up on that at a later time.

 

When everyone had finished eating, the projector was tuned into the satellite dish outside so they could watch the latest round of Warren's practice fights against the other recruits. He was up against Tempest, and Wendy looked determined to beat him this time. She almost did, large blocks of hail thundering down before he could protect himself or destroy the cloud she had created, but in the end Warren still won. He created a shield to hold above his head and threw a few fireballs in Wendy's direction to distract her. She was distracted long enough to not see the long lasso of fire that was sent at her, the fire burning her and her cloud disappearing as she screamed in pain. She yielded and was carried off on a stretcher seconds later, Gwen climbing into the ambulance after her. Warren looked right at the camera, gave his usual glare and stalked off to the changing rooms. The projector was turned off as people began to disperse.

 

"Not a bad fight. She might have won if she'd kept her wits about her," the Mad Professor murmured to Blossom as they left as well.

 

"Yes, but Tempest's never been known for her emotional control," she replied.

 

"Very true. Good night, Blossom," he said, giving her a nod as he headed towards his lab.

 

By the time the Mad Professor arrived at the lab a few minutes later, he found a yellow rose waiting for him. _Yellow was the colour of friendship_ , he remembered with a smile. Blossom was the only one who knew that story, and he knew that she was giving it to him as a gift rather than a message to go see her. Despite everything that had happened, Medulla truly did consider Blossom to be his friend.

 

Medulla returned to his attention to his laboratory, his sanctuary, and continued working on the potion to protect his only friend in the world he controlled.

 

...

 

End of the eighth chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Caprifoliaceae_ is the botanical name for the honeysuckle family, and they are pollinated by moths, if anyone's interested.


	9. Warren/Fire

* * *

 

_One month later_

 

Blossom had been given two weeks to recover from the ordeal in South Africa before competing against Warren. There had been two attempts on her life in the last three months, not just the one as predicted. Honey had mistakenly thought that the second attempt was actually part of the first. The rebels had planned it that way, mimicking their first failed attempt to confuse her. For the most part, it had worked. Honey's vision of her husband running off after the would-be assassin to catch him and bring him back was actually part of the second attempt. She'd been confused at it not happening in the original assassination, but Honey had assumed that it was part of a possible future that wouldn't come to pass. It had happened before, after all.

 

However, when Honey had the same vision yet again, she realised what the rebels had done and amped up the security detail once more. They'd become lax over the last two months, thinking that Blossom would be safe now. It was only due to Honey and Speed that Blossom was still alive. The rebels really had planned it all to the last detail, but this time instead of failing to kill her with a chest shot as they had the first time, they went for a head shot. Honey had pulled her down at the last second, and Speed had gone after the gunman. The man was a marksman shooter, but had no other super powers than that and had no hope of getting away from Speed.

 

In their final two days in South Africa, Ethan and Zach had left the safe confines of the Walls and penetrated the rebel's base to find them making a higher concentrate of the weed killer that they'd first used to hurt Blossom. So far as Warren knew, not one of the rebels remained alive, bar the shooter who'd returned with them. There were no words to describe how pleased he was that the rebels were all dead, just as there were none to describe the temptation he felt every time he passed that bastard's prison cell. He could kill the bastard before anyone knew, but he didn't. Blossom said that she had something special planned for the would-be assassin, and Warren had to trust her. _Of course he trusted her, hadn't he trusted her for all of these years and gone along with every single thing she'd asked of him_?

 

Blossom smiled and kissed him, pulling him towards the bed. He followed her willingly, all too happy to be close to her after almost losing her again. She let him be as sweet, gentle, and caring as he wanted, but as soon as her first orgasm faded, Blossom demanded everything else as well. Warren gave as much as he took, his body rising up over hers as she watched him intensely, clinging to his shoulders as she had the last time they'd had sex. He lit up in flames as his orgasm took over and she moaned in a mix of pain and pleasure as his mouth descended on her skin, branding her with his lips. His flames dimmed and the room was plunged into darkness. Warren belatedly realised that Blossom's plants were covering the windows and doorways.

 

"It's almost over, Warren, I promise," she whispered in the darkness, her body still wrapped around his.

 

"I know, hippie," he murmured, gently pulling out of her and lying beside her on the bed. "It's already been six years, what's a few more months?"

 

Blossom smiled at him, even though he couldn't see her expression, and pressed a firm kiss to his lips, her fingertips tracing along his face. He rolled over onto his back, pulling her with him so she could straddle his lap and they could continue. Blossom laughed softly, but complied with his wish without a single complaint.

 

...

 

The tattoos on Warren's wrists had been added to over the years, and now his entire left arm was covered in a sleeve of flames. _Blossom had claimed that the thick black lines inked on his skin were the perfect size to trace with her tongue, and had then taken hours to prove herself right. Her hair had grown longer over the years, the red locks reaching down to her ass when they were straightened. He loved cupping her ass and pulling her closer to him just to hear her gasp of desire_...

 

Warren's thoughts were rudely interrupted by one of Blossom's vines flying out of the ground and attempting to strangle him.

 

 _Fucking hell, you idiot_ , he berated himself, burning away the plant with a handful of fire.

 

If he didn't concentrate on actually fighting Blossom, she might beat him, and then he'd have to start all over again. Warren pushed all thoughts of fucking her, of holding her and kissing her out of his mind - even though she was wearing a skin-tight (and in some places, completely see-through) outfit. He'd never seen it in any of her fights before, so Warren had to presume that she was wearing it just to torture him. Of course, with the Cheshire cat smile on her face, it wasn't hard to come to that presumption. He'd have to be appeased by the thought that he could burn it off her later.

 

Warren returned his concentration to the fight once more, moving through the forest that she'd created rather than trying to burn the whole thing down and waste his energy. He came out of the tree line with arms blazing, ready to throw it in her direction, but Blossom wasn't standing there. He frowned slightly, looking around for her before noticing that a vine was growing on the other side of the forest. Warren looked up as Blossom jumped down from the roof towards him, and he didn't know whether to panic and catch her, or try to beat her with a fireball. He could tell that the people in the audience were wondering the same thing, watching him intently and silently. A pin could have dropped and echoed, he was sure of it. He threw three fireballs up, the first a purposely misfired one so she'd know he was serious and the next two when Blossom seemed fine.

 

 _Oh, fuck, if he killed her, he was going to be seriously pissed off. All of these years for nothing_.

 

The forest grew taller in a second, the trees acting as a shield and protecting Blossom from harm. She didn't come out of the forest though, and he slipped inside with his arms alight. She was waiting for him up in the branches, a grin on her face as she blew him a mocking kiss. He glared as Blossom threw a vine up into the air to get away, and he hurled a fireball after her, running out of the forest to see if it hit. He'd just grazed her, it seemed. Despite the distance, Warren could see a singe mark on her outfit. _Well, at least he knew that it wasn't fireproof, that would make it so much easier to burn away later_.

 

He threw a barrage of fireballs into the air, trying to get her down if he couldn't hit her. Blossom seemed to accept the challenge and dropped to the arena gracefully, the vine she'd held onto disappearing the moment her feet touched the ground. The forest behind her disappeared too, and she grinned at him again. Warren started to create a lasso of fire, swinging it up above his head as Blossom advanced towards him, a vine trailing behind her and growing with every step.

 

"I always knew that the rebels had their base at the Paper Lantern, do you want to know how?" she asked with a grin.

 

"Really, you're going to tell me now?" he muttered, trying not to roll his eyes.

 

"Sure, why not? This will be over soon enough," Blossom replied with a shrug. "It was the satellite dish."

 

"What?" Warren asked in confusion.

 

"The satellite dish at the Paper Lantern. It was installed soon after the first wave of toxins were unleashed. I mean, honestly, what would a supposed Chinese restaurant want with a satellite dish? And the world was going to hell, so who would buy a satellite dish in the first place? Unless, of course, they needed to communicate with other countries when all of the world's telecommunications were obliterated. I'm curious as to how people were recruited, though. That wasn't quite so obvious to me."

 

"That was my work, and Mrs. Woo, of course. She had connections to the former Triad and she knew what to say to make people join us. She's actually kind of terrifying," Warren admitted.

 

"Oh, I don't doubt that," Blossom said, grinning.

 

Without warning, she splayed her hands and the vine shot forward to wrap around Warren. He was faster than Blossom realised, capturing the vine with his lasso before it could touch him. He ignored the gasps from the audience and spun on his heel, using his free hand to throw a quick succession of fireballs at the vine she'd been creating behind his back while she'd been talking and trying to distract him. By the time both vines fell to the ground, Warren had already turned on Blossom to try and defeat her too. She was already protected by a forest, but he noticed that it was smaller than the one she'd created earlier. This time, he didn't bother trying to go into the forest and simply threw fireballs at each tree to try and smoke Blossom out. The trees began to disappear as Warren's flames became too much to handle. He advanced on the small forest, throwing smaller fireballs to make Blossom believe that he was tiring. When there were only a few trees left, Blossom revealed herself and grew another forest in the space of seconds. He had already been in the process of throwing the fireball when the forest began to grow, and Warren was fairly sure that he'd hit his target. He ran into the trees to find Blossom leaning up against a tree, her breathing shallow as she tried to apply pressure to a burn on her side.

 

"You all right?" he asked softly.

 

She nodded quickly. "Come on, then. Let's get this over with. I know you're dying to burn this outfit off me," Blossom said with a grin.

 

"You've got no idea, hippie," Warren said, smirking as he moved to press a kiss to her lips.

 

He stood up and knocked Blossom out abruptly. The forest disappeared a second later, revealing Warren standing over her unconscious body. He stepped back as the medics ran into the arena to check on Blossom. While they were doing that, he began to put out the fires out that were still burning. With that done, he completed his normal ritual and went straight to the changing room without talking to any of the media personnel that were demanding to know how he felt.

 

Warren went straight into the shower cubicle, wasting time as he waited for the crowd to leave so he could go to the hospital to see how Blossom was doing without anyone following him. Half an hour after the fight finished, Warren was surprised to see Honey come into the changing room. He finished tying his shoes and stood up, suddenly worried that he had hurt Blossom badly.

 

"I'm taking you to the hospital, stop looking so worried. The press are still hanging around, so we'll have to hurry. I'm pretty sure they've only just recovered from the shock of you winning," she said with a grin.

 

"It's not that unbelievable, is it?" Warren asked, pulling on his jacket.

 

"To me, no. To the rest of the world, maybe. You're the first to challenge Blossom though, so who knows? Someone else might get the bright idea to challenge everyone for a shot at second tier now."

 

"Like I'd let them take it away so soon after getting it," Warren scoffed.

 

"Don't worry, they won't get close enough to take on either of you," Honey said reassuringly. "All right, ready to go?"

 

He nodded and followed her out of the changing room and heading towards the parking lot. The cameras flashed in his face continuously, the reporters trying to say something - anything - to get a response.

 

"Warren, what do you say to the rumours that you're sleeping with Blossom?!" one man called out.

 

That one almost made him stop and turn, but Honey's eyes widened and she physically pulled Warren away before he could beat the reporter to death with his own microphone. His hand burned against hers, but she didn't dare let go.

 

"Do they know?" he asked Honey. "Do they know?" Warren repeated angrily, his hand smashing against the car when she didn't reply.

 

"If you'd given me more than two seconds to reply, you'd already know the answer. Don't take your impatience out on my car!" Honey said with a glare, muttering to herself when she saw that the paint had peeled from the heat of his hand.

 

He was still too angry to apologise, and Honey sighed softly.

 

"No, they don't know, not yet. But if you'd beaten the reporter to death with his microphone, then they would have known. It can't be revealed until everything's ready."

 

"You think I don't know that?!" Warren muttered.

 

"Don't talk to me that way, or you can walk to the hospital. Don't think I won't leave you here!" Honey threatened.

 

"Sorry," he ground out reluctantly.

 

"I know. Now get in the car, we'll be there in ten minutes if you can get your seatbelt on in the next five seconds," she said.

 

Warren was already in the car and had his seatbelt on by the time she finished her sentence.

 

...

 

"I'm fine, I just wish all of these people would leave me alone," Blossom muttered, glowering at the nurse who was checking her chart.

 

Honey set down Blossom's overnight bag with fresh clothes and smiled at her, patting her arm gently. "Just give it another two minutes, Blossom."

 

"Two minutes is too long," she muttered sourly.

 

"It's not exactly an eternity," Warren said with a grin.

 

"You're not the one stuck in this bed wearing an unflattering hospital gown," Blossom said. "In fact, you're the one that put me here, so you should be very damn nice to me."

 

"I am being nice," Warren said. "I haven't jumped you yet, have I?"

 

"I don't see how that's being _nice_ to me," she said, laughing.

 

"All right, two minutes are up, that means it's time for us to go," Honey said, getting up and guiding the nurse out of the room abruptly.

 

Blossom burst out laughing and pulled Warren down for a kiss. "You have to be gentle; I was in a fight today, you know."

 

"Yeah, I know, hippie," he murmured, his hands sliding up her sides carefully nonetheless.

 

She laughed against his lips and sat up on the bed properly. "Come on, let's get out of here."

 

"You sure? Will the doctors..."

 

"Who cares about the doctors? I'm fine, remember?" Blossom said, grinning. "There's a healer or two back in the Lab, I'll get them to look at me. Later, though. You get to look first," she said with a wink.

 

"Damn straight I do."

 

"Honey's left her keys behind. Let's get out of here before someone else comes," Blossom muttered, a vine passing her clothes to her.

 

Warren helped her get dressed and they were gone in minutes, Honey's car roaring out of the parking lot a moment later. Honey watched them go with a grin and dialled Simon's number so he could come pick her up.

 

...

 

"Where are we going? This isn't the quickest way to get sex, you know."

 

"I don't always think about sex, you know," Warren said, looking to her with a grin.

 

"Oh, really? So today during our little fight, you weren't thinking about burning my outfit to ash and fucking me senseless for the whole world to see?" Blossom asked, licking her lips and trailing her hand down his chest.

 

"Driving here, hippie, stop distracting me."

 

"Uh-huh, so where are we going then?"

 

"You can't just sit back and let me surprise you?" Warren asked, rolling his eyes.

 

"Fine, but I'm taking my shirt off."

 

The car swerved abruptly, and Warren hurried to put both hands on the wheel again. "Leave your shirt on, or I'm just going to forget the surprise."

 

"Tough decision: sex or surprise," Blossom said, humming as if trying to decide, her fingers already moving to undo her buttons.

 

"If I'm right, then the surprise could lead to sex. And I'm usually right," Warren added, grinning.

 

"Fine, but it had better be good, and involve something edible that I can lick off your body. The painkillers they gave me made me hungry."

 

"You can't just power up some food?" he asked, glancing to her.

 

"Maybe if we weren't in a speeding car. It's a bit hard to make a tree when there's nothing natural in sight."

 

"You've done it before."

 

"Yes, but I'd rather use my energy for something much more enjoyable."

 

"We will, I promise. Just close your eyes for a moment, okay? We're almost there, and I don't want to spoil the surprise."

 

Blossom sighed but closed her eyes reluctantly. _Honestly, they could have already been back at the Lab, in her apartment, and naked in all of this time. She wanted to see how long it took Warren to burn her outfit off, damn it_.

 

"All right, you can open your eyes now, hippie," Warren said, turning the car off.

 

She opened her eyes expectantly, frowning when she saw nothing but trees. "Uh, okay, I know I like trees and nature, but what the hell?"

 

"You mean you don't recognise your own handiwork?" he asked, getting out of the car and indicating for her to follow him.

 

Blossom frowned again, but followed him. If he'd brought her out all of this way to have sex in the middle of some creepy ass forest, she would have to challenge him and kick him back to third tier. She could make much better trees than this in a heartbeat. These trees looked old and rotten, nothing at all like her power.

 

"You made these before the toxins were released, hippie. You had no immunity against them, and neither did your plants. You seriously don't remember?" Warren asked incredulously.

 

"I've made a lot of trees, Warren, I don't keep a list of them in my head."

 

"Well, maybe this will help jog your memory," he said, pulling her forward and covering her eyes. "Walk forward a few steps. Straight ahead, that's it."

 

"I don't know if I want to kill you or kiss you. Just hurry up so we can get to the sex already."

 

"Impatient, aren't you?" he murmured, his breath hot against her neck.

 

"You know I am, Warren."

 

He just laughed and a few steps later, he removed his hand so she could see again. Blossom stopped still, staring at the structure before her.

 

"Holy fuck, I thought this place had been demolished?" she asked, unable to stop staring at the Hive.

 

"You know, before I started working with the rebels full time, I had a job working for a certain group of contractors. I was given the contract for this place. I told them that it was destroyed a couple of days later, and they had no reason not to believe me."

 

"You mean the Hive's just been sitting here empty for the past six years?"

 

"Uh, no, just the past year while I've been stuck in the Lab. This was my home. Don't you ever do a preliminary check up on the people you send roses to? I mean, I was kind of pissed that you'd ripped the front door off, but I thought it was because you knew where I lived."

 

"I had no idea. I don't have to think of the place, just the person," Blossom explained.

 

"Well, that makes sense. The kid that brings my mail told one of the Paper Lantern rebels after he saw it; I knew about the challenge before I even had lunch that day, but it was still a surprise to see how it was delivered."

 

Blossom nodded, albeit a little distractedly. "Can I see inside?"

 

"No, hippie. I've just driven you all this way so you can stare at nothing but the _outside_ of the house. In fact, let's go back to the Lab right now," Warren said sarcastically.

 

"Funny, Warren, really," she said, heading up the steps to the front porch.

 

He watched her as she made her way into the Hive. She looked just as excited as she had more than six years ago when they'd first came to this place. Warren followed Blossom inside, curious to see what her reaction would be to the changes he'd made over the years. She didn't disappoint him, noticing everything immediately, from the large armchair to the new books and the scorch marks he'd accidentally made on the ceiling.

 

"I'm surprised you stayed here, Warren," she said, turning to face him when they were in the kitchen.

 

"Well, I like this place. Besides, it made it easier to lie to everyone when I could come back here and remember what we'd done and why."

 

"Was it really that bad?"

 

He gave a slight shrug. "Some days were worse than others, but the worst part was that I had to come back to an empty house every day for five whole years."

 

Blossom cupped his face and kissed him softly. "I know exactly how that feels, Warren. But we don't have to anymore. Three more months and everything we planned will be complete. We'll have complete control of the world, and we won't have to hide our relationship ever again."

 

He kissed her, desperation and pure need making his mouth rough and fingers bruise. "Some of the things the rebels said about you... I had to sit there and agree with them, and all I wanted to do was roast them alive for just _daring_ to mention you. Do you know how many times I had to stop myself from walking up to the Lab and going inside just to see you again? I wanted to see the real you, not Blossom like everyone else sees. I know that you're so much more than she is."

 

He spoke each sentence between rough kisses and soft touches, his hands working to undress her. By the time he finished talking, she was naked before him, and he let out a soft and appreciative moan at the sight.

 

"I know how many times I had to stop myself from going down to the Paper Lantern, so I can imagine it was very similar," she admitted, unbuttoning Warren's shirt and pressing a kiss to his bare chest.

 

Warren shucked off his pants quickly and pulled her to him. He turned them around abruptly, lifting her and sitting her on the bench before kissing her body like she was a goddess to be worshipped. Blossom was fairly sure that she saw stars as he teased her mercilessly with his mouth and hands, his tongue and fingers caressing her until she screamed his name. Warren grinned up at her and licked his wet lips when she looked down at him with hooded eyes. She made an inarticulate sound and pulled him up to her, her lips crashing against his as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He held her and started to leave the kitchen, intent on getting to the bedroom, but she had other ideas, sliding down until he was completely inside of her. Warren groaned against Blossom's shoulder, nipping at her soft skin as she moved against him slowly, her hips gyrating as she kissed his jaw. They didn't get very far out of the kitchen, Warren slamming her against the staircase wall and fucking Blossom for all his worth.

 

"Fucking hell, hippie," he breathed when they were both spent, lying on the stairs now.

 

"It was good, wasn't it?" she said, grinning at him.

 

"Better than good. I told you the surprise would lead to sex," Warren added, chuckling as he pulled her close and wrapped an arm around her body.

 

"So you did. I didn't know you were psychic," she said mockingly.

 

"You know what else I see in our immediate future?" he asked, his mouth pressing hot kisses to her skin. "Pancakes."

 

"I'm intrigued as to how you think you'll be able to make pancakes with anything a year old," Blossom muttered, her fingers stroking his hair.

 

"Y'know, the _just add water_ one. The stuff lasts for two years, apparently, and I bought one before you challenged me."

 

"Let me check the ingredients," she said.

 

"I bought the vegetarian one, hippie," Warren said, even as he stood to go get the mix-filled container.

 

Blossom read through the ingredients carefully and deemed it acceptable so long as he cooked. She pulled on Warren's shirt as he slid his jeans on and headed back into the kitchen.

 

"You'd better get changed or I'll just have to fuck you again," Warren said, going to the stove to light it with a click of his finger.

 

Blossom just grinned and didn't move. Warren couldn't bring himself to care. He served up their pancakes when they were ready, pressing a kiss to her head. This is what he'd been missing for all of those years. This is what he'd been waiting for ever since Layla - back when she'd been Layla, at least - had told him her plan to rule the world.

 

She would join with the Mad Professor, and Warren would have to join any rebel faction that formed. There would always be rebels, of course, no tyrannical takeover was complete without them. They would work with each side until the time came to put their final plan into action, and then with both sides trusting their leaders, they would rule over everyone and everything. Layla had told him of the plan the night before their recruit tests, begging him to lose. He hadn't agreed, and they'd argued for hours, right up until he'd slammed her against the closest surface and fucked her desperately. Layla had screamed his name, and later when they were both lying on his bed in the dark, she'd begged him again to lose; she couldn't do this without him. He agreed reluctantly, and had failed the recruit test the next day, Layla standing beside the Mad Professor and watching him coldly. She'd been right about tyranny needing rebels, and it hadn't taken long for Warren to discover that his own employer was the one banding them together. He was one of the few that refused to go into the tunnels, choosing to believe the advice that was sent to them anonymously from an informant on the Mad Professor's side. It proved to be a wise decision, and Mrs. Woo soon had him training harder and longer so that he could be the rebels' leader.

 

After the second wave of toxins were released, people were desperate. They would have done anything - and anyone - for simple necessities like water, food, shelter, or even toilet paper. It wasn't hard to get people to join the rebels by promising those things, and for the most part, Mrs. Woo and Warren weren't lying. They were still a restaurant and so long as they provided the proper paperwork to the Lab's officials, they were still able to get the necessities delivered without raising too much suspicion. Everything came from one of the Lab's suppliers, but that didn't matter, so long as it arrived. There were a few months when they ran low on stock but they weren't able to get replacements since they'd only just received a delivery recently. Those weren't the easiest months to get through, and both Mrs. Woo and Warren had to make sure that everyone would share. They discovered a few people stealing from their supplies and dealt with them publicly, making it very clear that stealing from their community was a crime with a high price to pay: being cut off from the rebels completely. They had a few rebels who had powers, and one of them was able to distort memories. He was Warren's second-in-command, but had been killed three years after joining the rebels in what should have been a routine collection of mushrooms and herbs from a nearby forest. The toxins released into the air had little effect on the animals, but some had been dependent on humans for food, and now that the humans were hoarding every scrap they got, these once-domestic animals became hungry and desperate. He was killed by a group of cats, his torn and bloody body carried back by his gathering buddy who'd been too late to save him.

 

On days like those, Warren had to question the sanity of what they'd done, what he'd chosen. He'd seen the TV broadcasts of the Lab, seen the pristine apartments, the overflowing gardens, and people healthy and happy. Outside of the Lab it was a very different story, and he was the one living through it. He could have been inside the Lab with Layla, they could have worked on her plan from the inside together, but somehow, he'd ended up here instead. On those nights, when he doubted everything they'd done, Warren went down into the Hive and trained until he no longer had the energy to stand up, let alone light a candle. It helped clear his mind and keep him focused on what they were doing. They were working on their plan together, even if they weren't physically together, and he had to trust Layla on that.

 

Warren looked over at her now, her hair pulled back into a messy braid, sitting with him as she had every day for the past year - even when he was locked up in the Lab at the very beginning. They were together now, after four years of waiting, and there was no way in hell Warren was going to let her go again.

 

"Everything all right, Fire?" she asked, smiling at him.

 

"I can't believe you remember that name, Poison," he retorted, chuckling.

 

"I always liked it better than Ignite," she said with a brief frown.

 

"So do I. I loathe that name. Mind you, I _still_ can't bring myself to call you Blossom. It sounds too..." he trailed off, frowning as he tried to think of a way to describe it.

 

"Teeth-rottingly sweet? Yeah, I know. My age wasn't the only reason people underestimated me; it's amazing what a name does to people's perceptions."

 

Warren gave a nod of understanding. In the first few months, people had laughed at Blossom's super name, telling each other that she must be childish to actually willingly pick something like _Blossom_. After her recovery from the toxins (Warren hadn't been able to look at her on the screen, his stomach twisting at the sight of her so weak and vulnerable), Blossom had shown the world just how wrong they were about her. She was far from childish or child-like, and in a matter of hours, the entire continent of South America had shrivelled and died. Blossom was in the United States at the time and hadn't even been to South America before, but the entire continent was nothing more than ash. They were the first to agree to the Mad Professor's terms and their vegetation returned less than a day later, along with a large Wall that blocked North and South America. Stupidly, a day later, some reporter made a crass statement about Blossom on live TV, as if he thought that being on a different continent, being a celebrity, or even being in front of a live audience would spare him. He was the first person to be red-rosed, and after that, no one seemed quite so amused by Blossom's name or age anymore.

 

"Ready to get back to the Lab? I think Honey's taken my outfit back there just so we have to go back."

 

"We really have to go back for your outfit?" Warren asked with a grin.

 

"Well, how else will we find out how long it takes you to burn it off my body?" she asked, licking her lips as she looked him over.

 

Warren gathered their clothes in a matter of seconds, Blossom laughing as she followed after him to the car.

 

...

 

End of the ninth chapter.


	10. Layla/Poison

* * *

 

_Two months later_

 

Blossom watched as Warren paced up and down their living room. They'd publicly announced their relationship to the world a week ago, and he'd moved in with her the day after someone attempted to kill him. The CCTV cameras had been covered and couldn't provide a picture of his attacker, but Warren swore that it was Mrs. Woo, knowing that her preferred weapon was a pair of sharpened chopsticks. Mrs. Woo, it seemed, would need a while to come around to their relationship and trust him again. Blossom had already organised for Honey to take Warren to meet with Mrs. Woo, and Warren had muttered about needing a protective detail and bulletproof vest.

 

"Is there any way to get a sniper outside of the Paper Lantern? Or inside? Mrs. Woo is really going to kill me," Warren said, running his hands through his hair.

 

"What, you don't think you can hold your own against her? She's an adorable lady who's _five feet tall_ ," Blossom said, rolling her eyes.

 

"Yeah, she's adorable to _you_. I had my ass handed to me any time Mrs. Woo thought I was getting too big for my ugly old combat boots. Her words, not mine," he added.

 

Blossom stifled a laugh, her hands covering her mouth.

 

"It's not funny, hippie," he groused.

 

"I know," she said, grinning broadly nonetheless.

 

Warren rolled his eyes, kissed her anyway, and headed out to where Honey was waiting to take him to Mrs. Woo.

 

"Don't worry, Warren, she won't kill you," Honey said.

 

"Mrs. Woo not killing me doesn't mean that she won't kick my ass," he muttered.

 

"Well, she has put her trust in you for all of these years, would you expect anything less?" she asked with a grin.

 

"I would expect her to let me explain myself before trying to kill me," Warren said.

 

"Since when has Mrs. Woo been the type of person to ask questions first and kill later?" Honey asked with a scoff.

 

Warren gave a reluctant nod of agreement and slid into the front passenger seat.

 

From her penthouse apartment, Blossom watched as Honey and Warren left the safety of the Lab's white walls and drove into what was left of the city of Maxville. She watched their tail lights in the smog outside of the Lab's forcefield - another advantage of being on this side of the wall was the clean air, unlike the almost constant smog-filled air that occupied the rest of the world. Each Lab headquarters in each Walled country, continent, or state was given the same luxury of fresh air and their own hospitals, making it very clear to any rebels just who held the power in this world.

 

The car disappeared from sight over a small hill and Blossom turned away from the window. She closed her eyes and thought of Zach and Ethan, a yellow rose appearing wherever they were, signifying that they were both to come to her. It was ten o'clock, and she'd sent a rose with ten petals and two leaves, indicating that they had half an hour before they were required to see her. She wanted them to interrogate the rebel prisoner they'd brought back from South Africa and report back to her.

 

With that done, Blossom left her apartment to visit Medulla and see how the Jekyll/Hyde potion was faring.

 

...

 

Blossom tried not to look too amused at the fact that Warren returned from his visit to Mrs. Woo with a black eye. Zach on the other hand, wasn't sleeping with Warren, and just laughed outright. Ethan just grinned beside him, both of them ignoring Warren's half-hearted glare.

 

"All right, that's enough from you two. I'll get your report on the South African rebel later," Blossom said, dismissing them.

 

"Wait, I want to hear this. What did the bastard say?" Warren asked, looking at them.

 

Zach busied himself with cleaning the dirt - or more likely, dried blood - from under his fingernails, and Ethan suddenly found the wooden table's grain very fascinating. 

 

"Oh, man up and tell me already. I won't kill the messengers," Warren promised.

 

"You're not going to like it," Zach promised.

 

"Never thought I would. Now start talking," he said.

 

"He said that we killed everyone he was working with, and he's refusing to say anything else on that matter. Although, he definitely had a lot to say about Blossom," Ethan said, somewhat diplomatically.

 

"Mainly, about where she could put her vines," Zach added helpfully.

 

Warren's arms lit up immediately, and both men shrank back slightly at the sight.

 

"You said you weren't going to kill the messengers," Ethan reminded him.

 

"I know that; I plan on killing the source of the message," Warren growled, leaving the apartment immediately.

 

"I love when he gets like this; it makes me all warm and tingly inside," Blossom said with a laugh, following after Warren without a single indication of trying to stop him.

 

"Well, at least _they're_ happy," Zach muttered, standing up straight and brushing off his shirt.

 

"At least we're not roasted. Why'd you have to say that for?" Ethan muttered, nudging Zach in the ribs with his elbow.

 

"Ow, hey, you've got sharp elbows!" he whined, rubbing his sore ribs with a pout. "I said it because I knew that if we dragged it out with all of the other stuff that the idiot really did say, then we _definitely_ would've been roasted, never mind him not killing the messengers," Zach muttered.

 

"I suppose you're right. Come on, let's go make sure Warren doesn't burn the Lab down," Ethan said, tugging on Zach's hand to lead him downstairs.

 

By the time they reached the interrogation room, the captured rebel had already told Warren and Blossom everything he knew: who had organised their group, who else was in their rebel group, the people that had created the weed killer, who their suppliers and informers were, and where their rebel faction's headquarters were located.

 

From his helpfully supplied information, Blossom already knew that the South African rebels would no longer be a problem: there were none left. Zach and Ethan had already taken care of the rebels that they'd found in the hideout, and the idiots hadn't even thought to make their hideout separate from their headquarters. The South African rebels were no more. _Well, almost_ , she amended, looking at the terrified young man on the floor before her.

 

"He's given us everything he knows. I have no other use for him, you can kill him," she said, offering a bright smile to Warren.

 

Warren didn't even hesitate, and in a matter of minutes, all that remained of the rebel was a pile of ashes.

 

"Remind me to never get on your bad side?" Zach murmured weakly, eyes wide as he stared at the pile of grey ashes on the floor.

 

"You should remember without needing a reminder," Warren said with a smirk.

 

Zach just nodded, his mouth suddenly dry.

 

"Would you two like to come over for dinner tomorrow night?" Blossom offered, leading them all away from the interrogation room.

 

"You know us, Blossom, we never turn down free food," Zach said, perking up with a grin.

 

"Good; come to my apartment at 7 o'clock then," Blossom said.

 

"We'll bring the wine," Ethan said, thanking and farewelling them both before leading Zach over to the elevator to get to their apartment.

 

Warren looked at Blossom scrutinisingly when the other two were gone. "What are you up to, hippie?"

 

"Not much," she said with a shrug. "Medulla's finished the Jekyll and Hyde potion, and I think Ethan and Zach will be the perfect test candidates," Blossom said, grinning broadly.

 

"Oh, so we've stooped to drugging people, have we?"

 

"Only people outside of the Walls. Ethan and Zach will be offered a choice, don't worry about that... Of course, it'll be a choice between taking the potion or dying, so I'm fairly confident of their answers."

 

Warren shook his head at her broad grin and tugged her out of the interrogation room, leading Blossom up to their apartment to spend the rest of the day in a much more pleasurable way.

 

...

 

Ethan and Zach took the potion without Blossom even needing to threaten them. They both remembered how the Mad Professor had been in their early years and were curious to see what would happen to them. As they both screamed in pain, their bodies seizing into various contortions that would have been impossible had they been aware of them, Blossom used her vines to gently carry the two men to their apartment. She set Ethan and Zach on their bed with all the care of a mother and her newborns, then settled down on the armchair on Zach's side of the bed to wait and ensure that they would survive the night.

 

Blossom drifted off to the sounds of their screams and whimpers of pain. She woke up some time later, groggily realising that their noises had stopped. Sitting up properly, she checked to see if they were still breathing, and was intrigued to see that they'd powered up, even though they were both asleep. Zach's glow in the dark glinted off the puddle of water that was beside him, and her responding smile was almost feral in the greenish light. Assured that they would be all right, Blossom left their apartment quietly to return to her own bed. She left two ribbon-wrapped yellow roses on their dining table as her way of thanking them.

 

Warren woke up when she came into the bedroom, reluctantly opening one eye only to see her smiling triumphantly.

 

"That good, huh?" he murmured, yawning widely. "They okay?"

 

"They're going to be fine. It's going to be even better than we planned, Warren," she breathed.

 

"That's promising. Considering we planned for us to rule the whole fucking world, being better than that is going to result in us ruling the universe, right?" Warren said, chuckling.

 

"Oh, shut up, you know what I meant," Blossom muttered, hitting him with her pillow.

 

Before she could let go, Warren grabbed the pillow and tugged sharply, Blossom falling onto the mattress with a noise of surprise. Warren shoved her pillow back on her side of the bed and wrapped his arms around her body, warming her quickly. Blossom smiled and rested her head against his shoulder, her eyes closing as Warren fell asleep beneath her.

 

...

 

"Poison, Fire," Ethan said with a brief nod to Blossom and Warren respectively.

 

"This is fucking fantastic. It won't wear off, will it? I could become addicted to feeling like this," Zach said, grinning brightly.

 

"It will ease slightly so you're not feeling like this every day for the rest of your life. It'll burn you out in a few months otherwise," Blossom replied, rolling her eyes at Zach's disappointed expression.

 

"Oh, well that's all right then. Don't like the idea of burning out," Zach murmured, looking down at his glowing hand.

 

"We have to go rob a bank or three; we'll be back later," Ethan said with a grin, taking Zach's hand.

 

"All right, just don't rob our bank this time. And don't set the money on fire with the jetpacks again!" Blossom called after them, realising that they were heading for the jetpacks.

 

"They set the money on fire?" Warren asked, chuckling.

 

"Well, not _them_ , but they _were_ with the guy. An eighth tier recruit had the smart idea to tie the bags of money to his waist. The flames from the jetpacks come out waist-high, so obviously, not the smartest idea in the world. The idiot burnt himself to death in mid-air, which saved me the effort of red-rosing him," Blossom admitted with a shrug.

 

"Why wasn't that on the news? Would've given us a good laugh," Warren said, grinning at her.

 

"Exactly; it was a few months into our reign, so we couldn't have anyone laughing at us. I made sure that the security and news footage were destroyed."

 

"All right, no laughing then... So, now that those two are off robbing a bank, what are we going to do?"

 

"We're going to go train. I want to make sure we'll win when the time comes," Blossom replied.

 

"In the training arena? There's cameras and people down there," Warren pointed out, knowing that she wouldn't want to put their training on display when there was essentially no need for them to be training.

 

"I've got my own private training area."

 

"I've been here a year, and _now_ you tell me?" he muttered, shaking his head at her.

 

"That's one of the reasons why it's private: I don't tell people about it," Blossom said, laughing.

 

She walked over to a honey-suckle covered wall, and he could only watch as the plants moved, pushing two pieces of the wall apart until an elevator was revealed.

 

"Coming?" she asked, turning to face him.

 

Nodding, Warren hurried to where she was, the wall closing and plants disappearing behind him. The elevator wasn't run on electricity, but rather a pulley system involving several vines and various tree branches. Blossom took Warren's hand with a smile, seeing doubt flicker across his face.

 

"I've been using this for five years; there's nothing to worry about."

 

"I'm not worried," Warren muttered, but he still clutched her hand tightly as they began to descend.

 

He seemed a little awed at her training area - she didn't blame him, really; the thing stretched on for miles beneath Maxville itself. While Warren was distracted, Blossom wrapped him in a vine and their training session began.

 

...

 

The Mad Professor was having dinner with Coach when the green envelope was delivered, a challenge waiting inside. Coach offered no response, which didn't surprise Blossom in the least, but the Mad Professor didn't either, and that was surprising. She had expected some kind of emotion, some response after all of these years, but he simply nodded, took the offered envelope and shut the door on the Channel 5 news crew.

 

Waiting until the media had left, Blossom used her elevator to go up to the top level of the Lab, to Medulla's apartment. She didn't bother trying to be quiet as her vines pulled the wall open, and stepped out into his lounge room. Finding Medulla and Coach in the dining room, Blossom glared at the former.

 

"What the hell was that all about?" she demanded.

 

"What do you mean?" Medulla asked, setting his cutlery down and wiping his mouth on his napkin calmly.

 

"Your response! Why wasn't there one?"

 

"Because I've been waiting for this challenge for almost six months now. I wasn't aware that you were waiting for Warren to join you, but it's not that surprising, honestly," he said with a shrug.

 

Stunned, Blossom didn't quite know how to respond. Medulla seemed to realise this and gave her a slight smile.

 

"I have no intention of winning the fight, but I will behave as I must in order to make your win believable," he assured her.

 

"What? Why?" Blossom asked, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that he'd known for all of this time. She honestly thought that he'd put up more of a fight than this.

 

"You've always been the one in control, Blossom, and I'll be glad to finally hand the reins over to you completely. I can retreat to my lab without any interruptions; there's a few things I'd like to work on now the Jekyll/Hyde concoction has been completed," he added, looking over to where Coach was sitting blankly.

 

"What makes you think I'll leave you alive?" she sneered, finally over her shock and not at all pleased at the fact that Medulla was presuming so much.

 

"You will; I'm much more valuable to you alive. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time we've fooled the public into believing what we want them to believe," Medulla added.

 

Blossom glared at him, not wanting to admit that he was right, and left his apartment through the front door, slamming it behind her fiercely.

 

"That went well," Coach said, the barest hint of sarcasm in his voice.

 

"Don't worry, I've taken precautions to ensure Blossom won't let me die," Medulla said, returning to his meal quietly.

 

Coach didn't reply, and they finished their meal in silence.

 

...

 

Zach and Ethan were smart enough to avoid Blossom when she was in one of her moods, but they weren't dumb enough to avoid one of her message flowers, and soon found themselves in her apartment despite her mood.

 

"How are you two feeling?" Blossom asked, setting about getting drinks for them.

 

"Fine," Ethan said quickly, Zach nodding beside him.

 

"Oh, stop acting like I'm going to red-rose you. I'm genuinely interested in how you're feeling. The bank robbery went off without a hitch, I presume?"

 

"It went fine. The money's been added to the Lab's bank account accordingly, with our 10% cut already taken off," Ethan informed her.

 

"And we're feeling great. Apart from a bit of blood boiling anger here and there, I don't really feel any different," Zach added.

 

"That's good to hear, make sure you let the Mad Professor know," Blossom said.

 

"We will," Ethan said with a nod, taking the offered drink with thanks.

 

Zach took his drink as well, sipping at the liquid gratefully. The blood boiling anger part of it almost felt literal at times, his blood burning away in his body until he wanted to scream.

 

"Hey Ethan, Zach; how are you?" Warren asked, coming into the lounge room. He accepted the drink Blossom offered, kissing her briefly.

 

"Yeah, good thanks. You?" Zach asked.

 

"Not bad," he said, shrugging as he sat beside Blossom.

 

"So the huge chunk of skin missing from your arm is good, then?" Ethan asked.

 

"Oh, right, I forgot about that. Courtesy of a training session with Mrs. Woo. She's still pissed at me, and has started taking her anger out on me with well-placed arrows instead of chopsticks," Warren said.

 

"You're training with her?" Zach asked in confusion.

 

"Yeah, we're slowly starting to get the rebels on our side. It's amazing what the promise of food, clean water, and plants clearing up the atmosphere and air on their side of the Walls will do," he said with a chuckle.

 

"Of course, there's also the promise of a lengthy and drawn out public red-rosing if she tries to kill Warren again. I haven't done a public red-rosing for years," Blossom said, grinning.

 

"I've got a list of people that deserve red-rosing if you need it," Zach offered immediately.

 

"Paul and Johnny don't count as a list," she replied with a laugh.

 

"It's more than one person, therefore it's a list," he said stubbornly.

 

Ethan rolled his eyes at Zach and began to relax a bit more now they weren't going to be fodder for Blossom's angry mood. In fact, with Warren beside her, she seemed much calmer than the initial reports had suggested. He sipped his drink and joined in with the conversation, detailing exactly how many things needed to be included before a list was considered a list ( _three and more, obviously_ \- Zach was aghast at his lover's betrayal). They spent the rest of the night talking with Warren and Blossom. It was just like old times, except this time, all four of them were sitting around a table planning the world's future.

 

...

 

Warren was sick. He had been sick for a week, but no doctor, healer, or super equivalent could determine exactly what was wrong with him. The fight with Medulla was scheduled to take place in three days, and according to the rules (there were some rules, they weren't an anarchy, after all) only identified and medically-treated illnesses were allowed to postpone challenges. Medulla knew this just as well as Blossom did. She turned the entire apartment into a jungle, Warren immediately lost in the mass of green, instinctively knowing that Medulla was the cause. She cursed him loudly and repeatedly, calming herself enough to restore the apartment when she heard Warren wheezing.

 

Finally, after the tenth sneeze that burnt up her favourite hydrangeas, Blossom admitted that she would have to face Medulla. She contacted Honey to look after Warren (and her plants), then left to find Medulla. It wasn't hard to find him - he was in his laboratory with Coach sitting beside him - and Blossom walked over and slapped Medulla hard across the face.

 

He recoiled immediately, pressing his hand to his face. "That was a bit of a dramatic response, Blossom."

 

"Make Warren better _now_. I know you did something to him, now fix him!"

 

Before Medulla could deny her accusation or refuse her demand, Blossom squeezed her hand tightly. On the chair, Coach suddenly started wheezing, his face turning an ugly shade of purple. He just sat there and slowly began to asphyxiate, not even trying to claw at his neck as most people would - Medulla could see the vines under his skin keeping his body exactly where Blossom wanted as she killed him again.

 

"All right! You could have simply asked," Medulla said, turning to a set of vials.

 

"You would have said no," she replied.

 

Medulla didn't bother denying it, instead he handed her a small vial filled with a bright pink liquid. "Give him two drops every hour for the next 24 hours and he'll be fine."

 

Coach stopped wheezing, his face returning to its normal pale colour. Blossom stepped forward, using the dropper to place a single drop on Coach's hand. The liquid seemed to sink into his skin, but he didn't seem to be in pain or have any adverse affects, and she nodded.

 

"Thank you, Medulla. Don't you dare try to hurt him again, or next time, you'll be the one choking to death, understood?"

 

"Understood, but **you** need to understand that I am the only one with the knowledge and desire to fix these problems. What if it had been the result of a rebel poisoning Warren, and I was dead? You'd have no way of healing him; the rebels certainly wouldn't do it, no matter what you threatened them with."

 

Blossom was all too aware that Warren was still sick, sneezing small balls of fire, and had probably destroyed the grape vine she had been trying to grow along the ceiling. Instead of replying, she simply turned and left the laboratory without looking back.

 

"Think about it, Blossom," Medulla called after her.

 

...

 

Blossom did think about it; she thought about it for hours as she sat by Warren and watched him slowly get better, colour returning to his cheeks, and a spark of life seeming to reappear in his eyes once more. The second he was able to power up again, Warren threatened to engulf Medulla in flames for attempting to kill him.

 

"He wasn't trying to kill you, Warren; he was trying to make a point," Blossom said reluctantly, sighing.

 

"What point would that be? That he wants me dead?" he growled.

 

"No, that we can't afford for _him_ to be dead," she said.

 

Warren frowned slightly and went quiet as he considered what she meant. "You're not really planning on keeping him alive, are you? After all of this time, all of this planning?"

 

"I'm... I don't know. He's right, Warren. What if a rebel had poisoned you? We couldn't begin to hope to make the antidote in time, but Medulla could," Blossom said.

 

"Yeah, and we could also torture the fuck out of anyone that tried. Killing him has been the plan all along, hippie, we can't deviate from it now!"

 

"Why not? He's just one person," she said.

 

"Yeah, we're just two people, and we're about to take over the entire world! Medulla's also the one person that _everyone_ \- no matter rebel, villain, or civilian - knows and recognises; his face has been plastered on every TV and computer screen for the past five years! There's nowhere that he can go that won't have someone that recognises his face, and we can't keep him alive and risk our reign like that," Warren said, incredulous that he had to explain himself to _her_ of all people.

 

"What if it wasn't my face?" Medulla asked, standing in the doorway suddenly.

 

"Come to try and kill me again?" Warren snarled, his arms lighting up.

 

"No, not at all. I stopped by to ensure my antidote worked as it should have. Your fever's gone down, I hope?" Medulla asked, his voice surprisingly calm and _nice_.

 

"Uh, yeah, it has," Warren replied, wary and confused as to the Mad Professor's appearance.

 

"That's excellent news. Now, on to more important matters: my continued survival. As you may know, I've grown to like this little arrangement we've got going on, dearest Blossom, and I do not wish to see it end quite so abruptly or messily. I am more than willing to pass my reign over to both of you, pretend that I'm dead, all of that, but I refuse to die for control that you always had in the first place," Medulla said.

 

"What do you propose, then?" Blossom asked.

 

"We battle, as is expected of us by the public, but I don't die. Instead, I change my features and go to a remote place - with my laboratory equipment, of course - and stay there to live and die when I please," he said.

 

"You don't have the ability to change your features," Warren pointed out, feeling far too much like Captain Obvious for his liking (that idiot was a waste of space, and if Warren hadn't been on the rebel side on first meeting him, he would've thrown the ridiculous excuse for a super off the tallest building in Maxville).

 

"Oh, I know, but Craig does. I've gained enough blood samples from him over the years to discover exactly how he alters his molecular structure to change into someone else," Medulla said, producing a syringe.

 

Before Blossom or Warren could do anything, Medulla plunged the syringe into his own arm, injecting himself with the golden serum. He took a deep breath and before their eyes, began to change his body to mimic Blossom's, clothes and all.

 

"That is interesting," she murmured, stepping closer to survey him properly. "Do you sound like yourself as well?"

 

"Unfortunately, yes, which is why I'll most likely stick with a male," he replied, already uncomfortable enough in Blossom's carbon copy to shift directly into Warren's instead.

 

Blossom smirked a little at the idea of two Warren's, but was all too aware that under that Warren's skin was Medulla. She shuddered now instead.

 

"How much of that serum do you have?" Warren asked as his body seemed to melt away to reveal Medulla once more.

 

"Enough to change myself permanently once I've chosen a more inconspicuous and comfortable body," he replied.

 

"Who were you thinking?" Blossom asked curiously. "We need to know, or else we won't have any way of finding you."

 

Medulla gave a brief nod and changed again; there was just enough of the serum still coursing through his veins for one more change.

 

"Your old Hard Science college professor?" Blossom asked.

 

She had seen pictures of a much younger Medulla with the older man before (a picture from the 80s, and Medulla was wearing bell bottom jeans - she'd mercilessly teased him about that for _months_ ), but the man standing in front of her looked like a younger version of the Hard Science professor. Medulla nodded, seeming pleased that she remembered at all.

 

"What about a name, your passport, all the relevant paperwork? You can't just appear on a remote island somewhere without the proper credentials: you two made sure of that," Warren pointed out.

 

"Exactly, so I know exactly what I need to go where I choose. Honey's helped me organise it all," Medulla added, back in his body again as the last of the serum pumped through his veins.

 

" _Honey?!_ " Blossom asked, her jaw dropping. "Oh, you had better be waiting out there with a _damn_ good explanation, Honey," she snarled, moving past Medulla to go to the lounge room.

 

Honey was sitting on the lounge, waiting patiently ( _she'd probably been waiting since Medulla arrived_ , Blossom realised belatedly). She looked up at Blossom with a slightly sad smile.

 

"In exactly two years, four months, and sixteen days, Simon will be challenged by someone with a radioactive power. His body will not change, since he's already a natural-born super, but the radiation will make him ... very sick," she glossed over, thinking briefly of her husband in a hospital bed, pale and dying. "No one will be able to save him but the Mad Professor, and you can believe me when I say that I've checked across the globe; he is the only one who can save my baby's father... I can't allow you to kill the Mad Professor, Blossom," Honey said, standing and preparing to fight if necessary.

 

( _Six out of ten possible futures indicated they would fight, and of those she would only win one. Still, she would try; for her family, Honey would fight until the end_.)

 

" _Your baby's father?_ So you're finally pregnant then?" Blossom asked, grinning broadly and barely able to contain her excitement - Simon and Honey had been trying to have a baby for over a year now.

 

Honey let out a sigh of relief as six possible futures disappeared, her body tingling at the feeling of the possible becoming impossible and feeding her power. To answer Blossom's question, she nodded and grinned in return.

 

"I'm already six weeks along. I wasn't positive until this morning. I've yet to tell Simon; he's been out jogging," Honey added.

 

"Congratulations, I'm very happy for you," Blossom said, moving to hug her warmly.

 

"Thank you, Blossom, so am I. Simon may be a bit overprotective in the beginning, so try not to hug me too tightly when he's near. He'll settle down after a few weeks, don't worry."

 

"All right, thanks for the warning," she said, grinning.

 

"Can you please tell me exactly what's going on here, hippie? Do we have a fight to prepare for, or are we going to fake it?" Warren asked, finally out of bed and seemingly not caring that he was just wearing his boxers.

 

"Warren, you know that I never fake _anything_ ," she said with a grin, looking over his bare form appreciatively. "We've got a fight to prepare for, but we're going to do what we do best: deceive everyone," Blossom said, pressing a heated kiss to his lips.

 

"Ah, that's our cue to leave, Mad Professor," Honey said, leaving with the older man quickly.

 

Blossom ignored their farewells, wrapping her arms around Warren. He pulled away, licking his swollen lips, and sighing softly as he pressed a burning kiss to her neck.

 

"You're sure about this, hippie? We're really going to let him live?"

 

"For now. Who knows, we might be able to kill him in two years' time when Simon's better," she said with a small snort of disbelief. "I am sort of glad we don't have to kill him; Medulla's a better asset to us alive."

 

"True, I suppose; us not killing him now means he owes us in the future. Now, I've been practising for a fight that's no longer going to involve so much work to win, so I guess I'll just have to work off all of this extra energy in a much more pleasant way," Warren said, leading her back to the bedroom.

 

Blossom just laughed and let him guide her to the bedroom, onto the bed, and together for the next few hours. They both deserved a night off, and despite her exhaustion from staying by Warren's bedside the night before, Blossom found she suddenly had more than enough energy to keep up with her lover.

 

 _Warren was alive and finally by her side; they didn't have to kill Medulla; and Honey, one of her closest friends in this world she'd built, was expecting a child. A weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and she felt as though she was floating and would never come down again_.

 

Laughter bubbled out of her and Blossom kissed Warren heatedly, both of them falling silent as they soared in each other's embrace.

 

In just a few days, history would be made with two people holding the first tier position, ruling side by side and together. Fire and Poison would hold the position for a long time after the newly created chaos of Medulla's defeat was reigned in, and the world was finally theirs.

...

 

_Three months later_

 

Max thanked Tom as his friend handed him his mail silently. Coach still wasn't talking as much as he had once, but he was beginning to be more life-like than his previous self. Medulla was pleased with the way his experiments were going, and hoped that sometime in the near future he would be able to have a proper conversation with his old friend once more.

 

He went still on seeing the postcard tucked in with the bills and junk mail. As always, a small bee sticker was stuck somewhere on the postcard, meaning that Honey had sent it - her way of reminding him that she would always find him, no matter where he went. He ignored the front of the card (a serene beach and 'wish you were here!' added in falsely cheerful font), and read over the few sentences Honey had written for him.

 

_Poison and Fire were married last week, and are travelling to a certain remote island for their honeymoon. (You can expect them on the 23rd.)_

_Despite a few challenges from overeager recruits and rebels, Chaos will soon have everything under control once more._

_You can be assured that your friend is safe._

_Take care of yourself, Max_.

 

Max set the postcard down and sighed in relief. Chaos' reign had not been well received by a lot of people, rebels and recruits alike, but they finally seemed to be settling down. He saw that Tom was waiting out on the deck with breakfast, and stood to go join him when he noticed one of the thicker envelopes had a bee sticker on it too. Max opened the envelope and pulled out the contents warily. His wary expression broke into a bright smile, and Max went out to the deck, a perfect yellow flower lying on the table behind him.

 

...

 

The end!

 

Thanks for reading!


End file.
